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ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



"Out of your cage! 
Come out of your cage 
And take your soul 

On a pilgrimage!" 

Josephine Preston Peabody 



Across Siberia Alone 

An American Woman's 
Adventures 



By 

Mrs. John Clarence Lee 

'i 



New York 
John Lane Company 
London: John Lane, The Bodley Head 
Toronto: Bell & Cockburn 
MCMXIV 



V 



Copyright, 1913, 
By JOHN LANE COMPANY 



FEB -3 1914 

©CI.A362 121 



FOREWORD 



Days come and days go, but some sunny morn- 
ing most of us wake up filled with a desire to 
serve, to help. It was on such a morning that 
this book was begun. 

Siberia's need is that America should know 
her better. To that end, I have kept strictly to 
the facts as I saw them. 

The list of persons, official and private, in 
Siberia and in Russia proper, to whom thanks 
are due, both for information and for verifica- 
tion of details, is too long to place here ; but 
my heartfelt thanks must be put down. 

Helena C. Lee, 

(Mrs. John Clarence Lee) 

Philadelphia, Pa., U. S. A. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Wedding 13 

II Shanghai 19 

III The Call of the East 25 

IV The Finger of Fate 30 

V Manchuria 41 

VI Anna and the Prince 50 

VII Irkutsk 56 

VIII A Siberian Hotel 65 

IX A Drive in a Droshky 83 

X An Evening with Exiles .... 93 

XI The Great Siberian Railway . . . 105 

XII Baikal 115 

XIII A Siberian Countess 128 

XIV Home Life 137 

XV Tomsk and its University .... 148 

XVI Over the Urals 166 

XVII Emigrants 182 

XVIII Putiem Dorojski 196 

XIX Holy Mother Moscow 204 

XX Farewells 216 

i 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Family party in Tomsk Frontispiece 

OPPOSITE 
PAGE 

' ' Head-man, ' ' Buriat 16 

Eastern Siberian reindeer .30 

Barricade against the police in Moscow ... 32 

Ready for market 44 ' 

Buriat beauties 48 

Buriat hut 48 

Map of Siberia 56 

Parade at Irkutsk 66 

Village compound, Altai district 66 

Boys' school at Irkutsk 72 

Monument to Tsarevitch, Irkutsk 90 

"News from Home" by Pasternak .... 100 

"Preparing for the knout" by Korovine . . . 100 

Lake Baikal 106 

Russian State Train 106 

Magistratskaya, Tomsk 164 

People's Institute, Tomsk 164 

Tame bears 186 

Cathedral of the Assumption 210 

Vasili Blagennoi Cathedral, Moscow .... 212 

"The Conquered" by Verestchagine .... 218 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



CHAPTER I 

THE WEDDING 

IDEEW up the folding blinds and looked out 
across the harbor. To be alive — to have 
slept — to be awake again — and to be in 
Shanghai ! It was the morning of the wedding. 

The smell of China came in at the window — 
that haunting, indescribable smell, made up of 
stagnant water and perfume and cooking food 
and long-kept fruit. When your nostrils have 
once caught it, they never forget it. 

The streets were beginning to pulsate with 
life. Looking down, you could see the side-to- 
side motion of Shanghai — the little Oriental 
quiver, which is present in the smallest side 
street or on the Bund. 

There was a rustle. Caroline was awake, 
facing her wedding morning and wanting to 
know what weather was vouchsafed. The busi- 

13 



14 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ness of the day began. Is any other toilet like 
that of a bride? Each dainty garment is care- 
fully put on and smoothed and patted. There 
was no need for hurry. 

A succession of " chits " were brought by 
the Chinese boys. The Palace Hotel has no 
women servants. Our Number One boy is a 
tall, lithe fellow, with silent footfall. He wears 
a light-blue, long coat, which comes within ten 
inches of the floor. His black trousers are bound 
about the ankles. No servant must be permitted 
to come into your presence with his ankles un- 
bound. It is a mark of disrespect. 

" Chits " are a Chinese custom. They are 
notes. Labor is cheap. If you have a thought 
or want to ask a question, you don't telephone, 
although there are telephones, — you send a 
" chit," Many of the chits came in a sort of 
leather portfolio, bearing the owner's name on 
the outside, while on the inside a strong rubber 
band secured the chit. 

Everybody connected with the navy, in Shang- 
hai, offered to do anything he or she could. 
There was so little to do. Breakfast one must 
eat one's self and Caroline made a pretense of 



THE WEDDING 



15 



it, huddled up in her lavender negligee, her 
pretty gold hair in place. There was a knock. 
The Ensign bridegroom was below. Breakfast 
— who wanted breakfast? She was hurried into 
a gown and went skipping down the corridor to 
meet the one man in the world. 

Noon comes hard on the heels of morning. It 
found Caroline standing at the window, looking 
like an angel in her filmy white dress, with her 
hair shining through the veil and framing her 
fair face. After indecision and doubt and per- 
plexity, her way of life was to be settled this 
day. 

There were groups of Chinese boys dusting 
every inch of the corridor. An American bride 
doesn't pass through Shanghai every day. The 
procession below was waiting for us. The 
lobby was full — the sidewalk was lined. 

In a minute we were in the automobile, whiz- 
zing along the Bund, over Bubbling Well Boad, 
to the right through the Chinese quarter. The 
horn sounded constantly. The Chinese custom 
of walking in the street is not convenient for 
chauffeurs. We barely miss a wheelbarrow, as a 
one-wheeled chariot is called. 



16 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



This wheelbarrow is very different from a 
European one. There is no box-like portion. 
It has simply one wheel in the center. On 
either side of the wheel is a seat, made of rails. 
A cord runs parallel to the seat, near the ground, 
and the passengers rest their feet on it. 

Four laughing Chinese women, of the lower 
class, were sitting on one side of the wheel, 
while their bundles, on the other, balanced their 
weight. The wheelbarrow man was tugging at 
the handles, and a strap across his shoulders 
helped him to lift the burden. Chinese children 
darted this way and that, rickshaws sped along, 
but in spite of everything we made our fortu- 
nate way without disaster. 

St. John's cathedral is on the outskirts of the 
town, in the same compound with the theological 
school and the mission building. As we entered 
the gate, the lawn lay before us refreshingly 
green. It was a quiet place. The bustle of the 
street was left behind. We slid silently along 
the drive toward the church. 

A group of officers waited at the door. I 
tucked a few stray hairs under Caroline's veil 
and kissed her sweet face. 



Buriat "head-man' 



THE WEDDING 



17 



She turned to the Ensign. 

We were hardly in our pew when the organ 
sounded. They came up the aisle. The Bishop, 
to whom a wedding was no novelty, waited pa- 
tiently. 

" Wilt thou take this woman — to have and to 
hold — from this day forward — in sickness and 
in health — to love and to cherish? " 

The solemn words were nearly said, when the 
Bishop looked up. 

"Who giveth this woman to be married?" 

Powers above! And it had been expressly 
stipulated that this sentence was to be left out. 
He had forgotten. 

Who did? Why, I, of course, her guardian; 
and from the pew I answered with such sang 
froid as I could muster. 

He was praying now. I did not follow the 
words. I could only say, "God keep them. 
God keep them." 

It was over. The Lohengrin Chorus chased 
away the sadness that every wedding brings. 
We were in the vestry, signing the register. 

At the wedding breakfast, they drank the 
bride's health, the bridegroom's, mine, the ab- 



18 ACROSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



sent friends' and everybody's. It was very gay. 
We were all Americans, and the hour seemed 
near and intimate. 



CHAPTER II 



SHANGHAI 

IT is no part of my purpose to describe Shang- 
hai. Older and better brains have tried to 
solve the Chinese puzzle. If I can give you one 
glimpse of the fascinating Orient, it is enough. 

The windows of this room in the Palace Hotel 
open on a busy street. It is a holiday, and that 
makes a bit of a difference, even in this colorful 
city. 

The Chinese have black hair and black, bead- 
like eyes, with close-shutting lids. The hair is 
long and coarse. Since the Manchu conquest, 
all the hair in front of an imaginary line, ex- 
tending from one ear to the other, is shaved off. 
This was done as a sign of subjugation, and the 
shaving is practised only on men. In Shanghai, 
the majority of the men were still wearing 
queues. The women are allowed to wear what- 
ever hair nature bestows upon them. They give 
it great care. It is plastered down with a gum, 

19 



20 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



made by soaking the shavings of a certain tree 
in water. When ladies are travelling with their 
maids, half of the amah's bright box is taken up 
with the queer tin receptacle that contains this 
mixture. It has a slight odor. 

Straight beneath my window, a rickshaw is 
passing. You know a rickshaw as well as I, 
when you see it, but oh ! my friend, you never 
saw so many. This rickshaw is nearly past. 
The coolie has on a queer, platter-shaped hat, 
not large. The little mud-guards of the wheels 
are green and — " marvellous eye ! ?? — as the 
Chinese say. the European man who rides is 
wearing a new green felt hat. 

A poor Chinese woman, with trousers that look 
like old overalls and a dull blue cloth coat, has 
four great bundles in her hands. Her feet are 
normal size but they look large, and she has done 
her feminine best toward minimizing the defect 
by wearing blue stockings with her black cloth 
shoes. Most Chinese women wear trousers of 
black or dark color and a coat of a warmer bright 
silk, often damask, coming half-way to the knees. 
Mrs. K.'s amah is usually arrayed in a purple silk 
coat. They wear white cotton stockings and 



SHANGHAI 



21 



black cloth or satin slippers, very soft and pli- 
able, with felt soles. Even the women who are 
maids have bound feet. It is only the extreme 
lowest class whose feet have not been bound. 

A trolley line passes my window and there are 
an open and a closed car coupled together. 
Kickshaws have been passing all the while, but 
just now there are five in a row, and I'm guessing 
that a Chinese family is headed country-ward. 
A laundry boy has a long pole hung over his 
shoulder and a huge bunch of soiled linen at- 
tached to each end. Each package is done up 
in a clean white cloth. The boy himself is small. 

These silks ! These silks ! " A more better 99 
man, in his holiday attire, has a gray damask 
long coat, reaching to his heels, and a short, 
black brocade waistcoat. Waistcoats are worn 
outside the coat. 

Now there are two motors. In the whole city 
one can hire three automobiles. We had them 
yesterday, — but that's another story. A father, 
with bright blue long coat and a pigtail, is lead- 
ing his small son by the hand. The boy is 
clothed exactly like the father and they both 
have shaven heads. Three men with white cot- 



22 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ton long coats and odd little sleeveless vests are 
walking abreast. Two English ladies with 
drooping hats, their thin skirts blown by the 
wind and their pleasant, long bodies bent back, 
wait for a rickshaw to pass. A rather fat China- 
man is in the rickshaw; and when one is fat in 
China it means that he is prosperous. He bends 
his head as far as his neck will permit, and he 
views the English women. His eyes smile. His 
expression does not change. He does not " lose 
face/' — that ultimate dread of a Chinaman. 

A side street opens twenty feet to the left of 
this corner. In the rooms above the business 
house live some Europeans. The windows are 
full of flowers. There is a woman's head there 
now. The face is turned toward the harbor and 
the woman waits. Shanghai is not a woman's 
paradise. 

This slouchy Chinaman who is crossing the 
street has on a dirty straw hat. He must have 
come from America. A wave of cap enthusiasm 
swept the native hats off the coolies' heads a 
year ago and the English cap became the general 
garb. 

Luncheons and dinners and teas, — and teas 



SHANGHAI 



23 



and dinners and luncheons. The European world 
eats a good deal, and incidentally drinks a good 
deal in China, — especially in Shanghai. I stole 
every opportunity to walk along the Bund. 
There were many sampans anchored there. 

We stood for a long while on the bridge at the 
end of the Bund. It was six o'clock and quite 
time that any self-respecting sampan owner 
should be regaling himself with food. But where 
is it to come from when one takes a cargo a day's 
journey for twenty cents? There were children 
climbing about, and in three out of the ten sam- 
pans a mother was sitting in the stern of the 
boat, nursing a baby. The primitive needs of 
life are very present and are sans gene. 

Two children came running across the mud. 
The girl was the older and she was carrying a flat, 
brown basket, which clinked against her bare 
brown legs. She had on the remains of some 
cotton trousers, — three inches of leg and a flap- 
ping seat, and a patched brown shirt. The boy's 
work was finished. Manlike, he had hunted for 
food and now he rested. The girl took the basket 
and planked it down in the dirty, shallow water. 
The persimmons and green bananas had a tend- 



24 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ency to float. She put her bare foot into the 
basket and, holding the food down with her foot, 
leisurely soused it up and down with both hands. 
Then she flung it into the boat and climbed up 
the side like a young cat. 

Three boats away, there was a girl ten or 
twelve years old, keeping a straddling balance 
between two boats. Her hair was long and very 
black and showed well against the faded scarlet 
of her shirt. Her happy eyes saw the other chil- 
dren, saw us and looked beyond. She was play- 
ing with the muddy water, and she swayed with 
its lapping swish and laughed out loud. 

The mother finished nursing her baby. The 
sun was just behind the buildings. A queer, 
rose-pink cloud, which seemed to be China-dyed, 
crept along the edge of a roof. The lavish color 
of a radiant sunset blest every spot of earth 
within the eyes' reach. The playing child looked 
up. Quickly and with a splash she jumped, 
standing in the water, and faced towards the sun. 



CHAPTER III 



THE CALL OF THE EAST 

EVEE since I was a child, I have heard that 
the call of the East is a call never to be 
passed by. The reasons for it grow from hour 
to hour. I know one insistent note of the call. 
It is the shimmering, scintillating sunsets. 
There was one tonight. 

In the park, a Chinese band with an English 
leader played scurrilous airs, while amahs, 
mothers and children played and walked. Many 
men with sticks walked also. 

There is a class of women, which is prominent 
here. They are everywhere, and it is useless to 
turn aside. They are clad in changeable taffeta, 
with much Irish lace, or in immaculate white, 
which does not spot, even when they step in the 
mud. 

The Chinese amah is a faithful soul. I feel 
suspicions of her absolute cleanliness creeping 
into my mind. The Chinese are good to chil- 

25 



26 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



dren. One often sees the men carrying children, 
and the little faces smile. I hear that the mis- 
sionaries are asked to be especially kind to chil- 
dren in the street, for that is the sure way to win 
the regard of the Chinese. It is not hard; the 
babies are such cunning imps. 

The Chinese band is playing to a larger number 
of Englishmen than Chinamen. It seems at times 
as if this city was run principally for Europeans, 
especially for Englishmen. The Chinaman steps 
off the sidewalk for the Englishman, and the 
Chinese woman squeezes herself against the wall 
of the house to allow her European sister to pass. 

I was a good deal surprised to find so large a 
number of tall Chinamen. Indeed, the majority 
here are tall and slim. This effect is accentuated 
by their long coats, which come well down to 
their ankles. The women, almost without ex- 
ception, are short and slender. Their hair is 
dressed in a flat knot at the back of the head, 
and no chance lock escapes. I have not yet seen 
any Chinese women wearing hats. 

Saturday night, two of the Admiral's aides 
took us to the theater. Through the week, I'd 
been hearing much talk of this theater. The 



THE CALL OF THE EAST 27 



attraction was in town for two weeks, playing 
such lurid things as " The Second Mrs. Tan- 
queray," " Salome/' and the like. We drew a 
revised, unabridged and expanded version of 
" Baby Mine/' played by a set of people who were 
advertised as actors. Perhaps they were. One 
evening's performance is hardly proof. On Sun- 
day, we saw the real, live hero, walking through 
the hotel lobby and playing the part of the self- 
conscious, would-be gentleman better than he had 
done anything on the stage. 

The audience liked the performance. A con- 
tinued residence in China takes the edge off one's 
critical powers. There were a great many 
sailors, a few gorgeously dressed ladies, and the 
rest of the audience was composed of flush-faced, 
middle-aged men, presumably business men, of 
one kind or another. 

Apropos of business, in China there seems to be 
some difference of opinion. Everybody agrees 
that people work hard. An insurance man said : 

" I get up at eight-thirty. My boy has my bath 
ready — and a whisky. He shaves me and I get 
into my clothes. The boy brings my breakfast 
and gives me my hat and stick. I go down to the 



28 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



office, the boy brings my mail, and I work until 
eleven. Then my boy brings another whisky 
and I go over to the Club. Stay there until one. 
The boy brings a cocktail and I go home for tiffin. 
Get back to the office at two-thirty and work un- 
til four. My boy brings another whisky and my 
racquet and I go out to the Burlington for tennis. 
Play until seven. The boy brings a cocktail and 
I go home for dinner. In the evening I go out 
with my wife. Come home, have a cocktail, and 
tell the boy to close my eyes." 

One of the calls of the East is "Boy!" 
No one raises his finger, — the omnipresent boy 
raises it for him. The boy exists in such num- 
bers that it gets to be second nature to depend 
on him for all the little services that in another 
country you would perform for yourself. 

Mrs. K.'s amah took us into training. She 
tried to impress upon us that we must not say 
" Thank you " to the boys. 

"No talkee tank/' she said. "You laddy. 
No talkee tank. Maskee." 

" Maskee " is the word that you hear every- 
where. They were passing through a cholera 
epidemic in Shanghai, but people hesitated to 



THE CALL OF THE EAST 



29 



deprive themselves of the luscious fruit, especially 
the favorite pomelo. " Maskee ! " and they ate 
it. It is the " No matter ! " of the fatalist. If 
cholera is coming, it will come. " Maskee ! " 



CHAPTER IV 

THE FINGER OF FATE 



THE question concerned Siberia. It was to 
stop or not to stop. In London, at the 
Russian Consulate, where my passport was vised, 
I had asked the tall Anglicised Russian about 
Irkutsk. 

" No one ever goes there, Madame/' he said. 
" We advise you not to stop. Wait a minute. 
One of my assistants was in Siberia for five 
years. " 

The assistant was a white-faced youth, stocky 
and short. 

" I was in an office in Siberia for five years. 
Yes. There is nothing to see. You had better 
not leave the train." 

I thanked him and his superior officer, with 
the feeling that they both thought I was a sort 
of freak, even to dream of stopping in Siberia. 
When a Russian advises you not to visit some 
portion of his country, you naturally want time 

30 



Eastern Siberian Reindeer 



THE FINGER OP FATE 31 



in which to consider the matter. There was the 
trip out. Probably I should arrive at some deci- 
sion. 

Now the crucial moment had come. A ticket 
must be bought to somewhere. Was it to be 
Irkutsk, Taiga, or Moscow? I am keeping a 
warm place in my heart for the particular man 
who chanced to be in charge of the Wagon-lits 
office in Shanghai. 

" I want to stop over at Irkutsk. Do you 
think it is safe? " 

He adjusted his eyeglasses. 

" The office does not advise it, but if you are 
willing to take the risk — why not ? " he said. 

" Can one buy a ticket to Moscow with stop- 
over privilege? " 

" There's only one train a week — of the Inter- 
national Company — but there are two Russian 
state trains. I can only give you the ticket as 
far as Irkutsk — since you are to stop. I wish I 
could arrange it otherwise." 

So it was settled by a twist of the wrist — I 
was stopping at Irkutsk. We exchanged the 
most cordial civilities, this man and I. We 
slipped from English into French for that. To 



32 ACKOSS SIBEBIA ALONE 



wish him long life and happiness was on the end 
of my tongue, but what would you? It isn't the 
usual form of parting, in French. 

My filleule was not pleased. " You'll get in- 
terested in some local custom, or in some person, 
and you'll lose your train, or all your money'll 
be stolen — or something. You'd much better 
take the Wagon-lit straight to Moscow." 

She was right ; it seemed the simpler thing to 
do. Still, the ticket was bought. I knew in 
the lining of my heart I was glad. 

A small tragedy had happened meanwhile. 
The Ensign bridegroom's ship was ordered to 
Foo Chow. The navy knows no law and no ap- 
peal. His absence made my going harder. 

The two naval officers who came to see me off 
were gay. The very air was intoxicating. Caro- 
line was married. Whatever her life was to be, 
it would not be lived alone, — which, by the way, 
may be one of the primal reasons for a woman's 
marrying. 

To be a foreigner in Shanghai is to become in- 
stantly one of a group. I had appeared twice at 
a desk in the Chartered Bank, and I naturally 
recognized the well-set-up Englishman who pre- 



THE FINGER OF FATE 33 



sided there, when I saw him at the Customs 
wharf. He had been cool the first time, very 
pleasant the second, and now he took off his hat 
with some ado. The explanation — with Eng- 
lishmen there is often an explanation, — lay in 
the fact that the host at one of the dinners that 
were given for us lunched at the Chartered Bank 
mess. It seems to be a general custom for 
bachelors to have sumptuous quarters and then 
take their meals at some mess. 

The grandiose porter of the Palace Hotel as- 
sured me that my effects were all on the dock, — 
baring his teeth in a tantalizing smile that 
brought a dollar Mex. out of my pocket-book as 
if by lightning. One hesitated to offer it, — but 
it was accepted. 

The little tender danced over the water in the 
warm sun, while one of the naval officers told me 
the romantic story of his betrothal to a girl of 
fifteen. He held himself for her, although she 
did not know. He had seemed like a will o' the 
wisp before, but I looked at him now and his face 
was suddenly stronger, his eyes clearer. With 
this change my spirits fled. 

Caroline was sitting wearily by, answering in 



34 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



monosyllables, nervous and uneasy at facing her 
new life alone. The cutting of cables is never 
an easy job. 

As if my mind had been searching for some- 
thing to make the situation worse, I remembered 
suddenly that my long coat, that most necessary 
travelling adjunct, was not on the boat. It was 
hanging on a hook on the door of my room at the 
hotel. As a finish to the romantic tale, the offi- 
cer was told about it. 

"We'll telephone, and I think it will get 
here." 

I had hopes of my own, for — take it by and 
large — a coat on one's back, when the back 
is in Siberia, is more useful than a coat in 
China. 

We were sitting in the four comfortable chairs 
in the stern, — there were but four, and the tall 
porter had covered them with his arms and legs, 
quite without loss of dignity, until we came on 
board. 

We were first on the swaying gangway up to 
the steamer. The Japanese officers bowed us to 
the cabin, large, airy and clean. Prophecies are 
dangerous, but I am venturing to assert that, if 



THE FINGER OF FATE 35 



the Japanese ever run a line of steamers across 
the Atlantic, with Japanese boys for stewards, it 
will lower the incomes of the other lines. 

I was comforting Caroline, — and feeling a 
thousand doubts myself, almost wishing that 
there was no such thing as marriage in the world, 
— when in came the naval officer to say that the 
hotel was sending a boy and two coats. A for- 
eign voice was only beginning to shout, " Ashore, 
ashore," as a boy and a rickshaw and two coats 
hove in sight, and I was again at peace with 
the world, — while Caroline's coat and the boy 
went back to the hotel. 

Poor Caroline ! She could stand it no longer. 
It was decided that they were to go back to the 
city at once, not waiting for the boat to start. 
It is Providence that makes all partings fore- 
shadow the great one; or is it the human mind 
that makes the comparison? The naval officers 
and Caroline were in rickshaws. I threw them 
some last kisses and then I turned away. 

O Harboring Arms, go with her! 

J apanese came and went, and bowed and bowed 
again. The American dancing-master should 
have a glimpse of two Japanese saluting each 



36 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



other. A German came aboard, with his Japa- 
nese servant carrying his overcoat, straw hat and 
umbrella. Running hither and thither like flies 
were tall Chinamen, in long, light-colored coats 
coming down nearly to their heels. Most of the 
coats were blue, but if you didn't like that color 
there were plenty of others to choose from, — 
maroon, red and yellow, — and they were of cot- 
ton, of silk and of damask. There were China- 
men with queues hanging down, and there were 
Chinamen with queues done up, and Chinamen 
with plain hair, cut like that of an ordinary hu- 
man being. 

It was cool. My fur scarf hung over my shoul- 
ders without weight. We saw many blue um- 
brellas tucked under blue arms, and I re- 
membered one of the hot days in the week just 
past, when the landscape had been one riot of 
blue. 

That was the rhythmic cry of the Chinese 
coolies, dragging down the gangplank. Coolie 
labor is so cheap that I counted five coolies de- 
tailed to slip the cable from one mooring. The 
steamer glided out into the water. Any vehicle 
of transportation, carrying its human freight to 



THE FINGER OF FATE 37 



their unknown future, sends a thrill through me. 
Its possibilities are so great. 

I waited on the deck, feeling somewhat lonely. 
There was a fresh land breeze, and every knot 
brought me nearer America and those I loved. 
The curtains at the door of my stateroom were 
bobbing about as if they were alive. There are 
doors, and locks on the doors, but I fancy that 
neither locks nor doors are often used. 

I took off my Paris hat and wound my head 
up in a blue veil, and rang for a chair. The 
boy didn't speak English, so we walked toward 
the place where there were some chairs on the 
deck, and he brought one down in front of my 
door. I looked out at the long English build- 
ings that lined the river, commercial and Euro- 
pean. If the foreigners are detested by the Chi- 
nese, it is not so strange. They have taken the 
best of everything, wherever they could lay their 
hands on it. 

Dinner brought the eighteen passengers to- 
gether. The first meal on board is a sort of roll- 
call, and each one goes to it expectant or callous, 
as the case may be. We were a mixed lot, — ail 
Hungarian lady and her daughter, an American 



38 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



from Manila, an Englishman, two Frenchmen, a 
German, four Japanese, and the officers. There 
was also a dog. 

It was pleasant to have another woman on 
board. She was pretty and sweet looking, like 
a sister to her fifteen-year-old daughter. The 
daughter was learning English, and she was con- 
stantly saying: 

" Moder, you know Moder, I go get my liddle 
dog." 

Several times a day, she would say: 

" I tell you someting, Moder. Fm hungry. I 
must eat, Moder." 

Both mother and daughter were dashing 
blindly through life, the mother married twice, 
so far, and finding her second husband difficult 
to live with. 

As she put it, " It's China. It's the climate. 
I fly into a rage and I don't know why — and 
then some words — and then it's over." 

She was going to Hungary for the winter, to 
see if her health and things in general would not 
mend. 

Life is such a crushing thing, taken in the 
lump, lived for one's self, for one's possible posses- 



THE FINGER OF FATE 39 

sions and one's conquests, with never a long 
breath of cleansing love to clear the lungs and 
heart. 

The voyage across the Yellow Sea from Shang- 
hai to Dalny, or Dairen, if you prefer that name, 
is only about forty-four hours. The little boat 
bobbed about like a bottle. Because of the ad- 
miral's aide, perhaps, I was asked to dine with 
the captain. He was Japanese, and only half 
bilingual. Ever since my first sea-going, I have 
been careful about my first meal on ship-board. 
I had never been seasick, and why should I try 
to explain to the captain the reason I was eat- 
ing nothing, since, in the end, he would think I 
was insulting him? We struggled amicably 
through five courses of good enough food, gar- 
nished with monosyllabic conversation. 

Then I went to my cabin. There was a per- 
ceptible swell. Writing was out of the question, 
for the chair would not stay in the vicinity of 
the table. The fact was, I felt ill. Soon I 
couldn't sit up. 

That cholera at Shanghai! My head was 
throbbing and I knew my temperature was rising 
fast. 



40 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



The one thing to do was to reach the bell and 
summon the boy while I had the strength. 

With great difficulty I stood up, — when of a 
sudden I knew! It was only seasickness, — 
blessed seasickness! Was it ever so welcome 
before? 



CHAPTER V 



MANCHURIA 

THE boats of the South Manchurian Com- 
pany may not be very remarkable. Still 
the cabins are spacious and the service is perfect. 
During dinner the boy laid out my night clothes. 
The same noiseless-footed youth walked in and 
out through the early morning, bringing shoes 
and hot water, putting out the slippers for the 
bath and fixing things generally, so that the work 
of rising could be accomplished with the least 
possible effort. 

Tuesday morning found us passing a hilly 
coast-line. The shore was red and the water 
very blue, with just enough of a haze over the 
sun to make the color perfect. With much cere- 
mony the health officers came aboard, and we lay 
in a calm sea until they finished their examina- 
tion at five o'clock, when we were permitted to 
enter the harbor. There was a Chinese trader 
outside, which had been unable to pass the exam- 

41 



42 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ination and had been biding her time for ten 
days. 

It was six o'clock when we were at the pier. 
The first officer told us that we could remain on 
board for the night if we wished. It was a warm 
evening. The string of electric lights outlined 
the long docks and was reflected in the shining 
water. Only four of us stayed on board, and it 
was for all the world like a private yacht. 

The first officer presided at dinner, a singularly 
alert, capable young man. The little Hungarian 
lady was extolling the Dalny oysters. 

" You can have some for breakfast, I think," 
he said. 

Sure enough, they were there, both raw and 
fried, and I assure you it was a memorable feast. 
We paid fifty cents for it, but the thoughtfulness 
and courtesy are not to be paid for. 

The rickshaws at Dalny have no rubber tires, 
and that makes a difference, but a rickshaw is a 
rickshaw and always fascinating. They rattled 
us up through the broad, bare streets for a mile, 
to the Yamato Hotel. Yamato is a general name 
applied to all the hotels controlled by the Jap- 
enese Railroad. 



MANCHURIA 



43 



Port Arthur is only about an hour and a half 
from Dalny. We wanted to visit the scene of the 
great siege, but with a ticket on the Interna- 
tional, — and only one International train a 
week — we hardly dared to venture. 

The shops in Dalny are small and insignifi- 
cant. The town is finding itself, after its total 
destruction during the war. There is one large 
department store. A man with hieroglyphics 
all over his coat checked the wooden shoes of the 
customers. We wandered about, buying the em- 
broidered cloths that the Japanese fold inside 
their kimonos. There is not much of interest in 
Dalny, and two o'clock came none too soon for 
us. 

From Dalny one takes a spotless new Pullman 
— made in Illinois — with " Sleeping Car " 
painted in English on the outside. The car is 
divided into compartments for two, with an in- 
dividual wash-basin of the latest type and hot and 
cold water. At night one locks the door and 
opens the window, and it is wonderfully com- 
fortable. A good dining car is attached to the 
train. 

The stations from Dalny to Chang Chung have 



44 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



both Japanese and English names, which is, after 
all, a pleasant concession. 

The scenery in the Liao-Tung peninsula, 
through which the railroad runs, is charming. 
One sees Talien-wan Bay as blue as a cloud, ly- 
ing in the warm red soil. The South Manchurian 
Bailroad runs from Dalny, where passengers 
leave the boat and take the train to Chang Chung, 
connecting there with the real Trans-Siberian 
Bailroad. The direct line of the Trans-Siberian 
Bailroad continues east from Chang Chung 
to Vladivostock, whence one continues to 
Japan. The Japanese line from Chang Chung 
south to Dalny is only for passengers going to 
China. 

Manchuria, or " The Eastern Province," as the 
Chinese call it, lies to the north-east of China. 
It consisted at first of a group of small Tartar 
and Manchu principalities, of which Mukden be- 
came the capital. Some of the missionaries on 
the train going out had said that they could easily 
distinguish between Manchus and Chinese. The 
Chinese are much cleverer intellectually — a fact 
that may be due to the grant by the state to adult 
Manchus of a monthly pension. This is not 



MANCHURIA 



45 



large, but they can live on it, and it allays any 
sprouting ambition. 

It is not until one passes through the country 
that one understands the desire of both Eussia 
and J apan to possess this fertile land. The war 
was recent enough to have left marks all along 
the way. Dr. and Mrs. Christie had invited me 
to visit them at Mukden. I should have been 
glad to see the medical school, which has been 
such a blessing to that region. Both Dr. Chris- 
tie and his stanch little Scotch wife were in the 
midst of the danger, and came through it, giv- 
ing courage and help to all whom their hands 
touched. The King added a few letters after 
Dr. Christie's name, but they have not changed 
his modest spirit. 

There was intensive cultivation in the country 
through which we passed. In October, men were 
still plowing the fields with oxen, and on the road 
we saw queer, covered carts drawn by two or 
three mules, one in front of the other. The carts 
looked like discarded prairie schooners. The 
wheels are made with a very heavy rim, and 
equipped with a beam-like cross-bar, instead of 
spokes. 



46 ACKOSS SIBEBIA ALONE 



Although the railroad belongs to the Japanese, 
and a strip of land on either side of the track is 
their property, the inhabitants are almost en- 
tirely Chinese. If I were a diplomat, I should 
be interested in following any possible Japan- 
ese expansion in Manchuria. 

The Manchurians are very tall, and their faces 
are a bit terrifying. The men, working in the 
fields, wear light-blue, baggy trousers, gathered 
in at the ankle, and a short, light-blue shirt. 
The flapping city coat, clinging to the heels, is 
dispensed with. Sometimes the worker hangs 
his shirt on a tree, which leaves him encumbered 
with only one garment. 

There are great ditches cutting up the fields in 
every direction, the remains of the military oc- 
cupation of the country, but wherever there is a 
level space of twenty or thirty feet between the 
ditches the land is cultivated with nicety. Millet 
is the great crop, and there is much wheat. 
Millet is the staple of the country — the grain for 
food and the stalks for fencing, building and 
even for fuel. Barley is also raised. 

You look out of the car window and you feel 
glad. The earth itself rejoices. Good care is 



MANCHURIA 



47 



being given it, and there is the breath of pros- 
perity in the air. One feels this more in the 
country than in the towns. 

We have just passed a Chinese scare-crow. 
You wouldn't think that a scare-crow would 
change nationality, but it does. The flap of the 
trousers is Chinese and the hat cannot be paral- 
leled outside of Mongolian territory. 

The stations are curious white buildings, and 
in many of them the compound idea is carried 
out by a high, white picket fence, which runs be- 
tween the platform and the station. At Khina- 
gan station a crowd of Mongolians squatted on 
their knees behind the fence and gazed through 
the bars. They looked for all the world like 
caged monkeys. They wear long queues in this 
part of the country. If nature has not been gen- 
erous in the allotment of hair, a switch is added, 
and that is pieced out with black string, so that 
the queue, as a finished article, comes well below 
the knees. 

We are passing a village now. It is in the 
form of a compound, with a mud wall enclosure, 
seven or eight feet high. The gate has a pretty 
thatched roof. The houses are one-storied and 



48 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



low, built in blocks. Fancy that, with all the 
empty country round about. A sort of red lamp- 
shade hangs near the gate, as propitiation to the 
gods. Banners for the same purpose are on the 
walls of the houses. There are no doors or win- 
dows — simply holes, with no visible means of 
closing them. The houses are made of mud. 
The houses, the road, and the people are all of one 
color, an effect which is not exhilarating. A 
Chinaman slinks along, and some black sheep run 
across the road, followed by two black pigs. 

Not half an hour farther on, there are great 
hills reaching down towards us. A girl is work- 
ing in the field with her father. She raises her 
slant eyes, smiles at the train and waves her hoe. 
There are few houses to be seen, simply great 
hill after great hill; still in every valley through 
which the railroad passes there are many China- 
men working in the fields. Where do they all 
live? I hunted up the porter and asked him. 
" Lif ? " he said. "All where." As you notice, 
La Compagnie Generale des Wagon-lits holds 
that its employees shall speak English. 

From fellow-travellers who knew Manchuria 
I learned that for safety the inhabitants live in 




Buriat beauties 




Buriat hut 



MANCHURIA 49 

compounds and go out five or ten miles to their 
fields. The same manner of village life prevails 
throughout Siberia. 



CHAPTER VI 



ANNA AND THE PRINCE 




T Chang Chung the next day we found the 



class are upholstered in velvet and the compart- 
ments are for two persons only. There is a lava- 
tory between every two compartments. In the 
second class there are compartments for two and 
compartments for four, with lavatories at each 
end of the car. The upholstery is in rep, covered 
with crash. Both classes use the same dining 
car, and the difference in comfort is infinitesimal. 
There are numerous racks for baggage, and in 
some of the cars there is a large place over the 
aisle for storing luggage. 

The next afternoon, we reached Kharbine, 
where the special car of Prince Arthur of Con- 
naught was attached to our train. 

I had asked Madame la Hungarienne and her 
daughter to take coffee with me at Kharbine dur- 
ing the hour's wait. There is a long table oc- 



The cars of the first 



50 



ANNA AND THE PRINCE 51 



cupying the center of the Kharbine restaurant. 
It is cluttered with candelabra and great displays 
of wine, so there is little room left for patrons. 
Along the side of the room are booths, contain- 
ing tables for six. Every booth was taken, until 
we found one in which was Monsieur Frangais 
No. 1. He had been in China for twenty months 
without his family, and he was as glad as the 
rest of us to be facing homewards. He invited 
us into his booth, to be his guests. Before the 
coffee had arrived, along came Monsieur Frangais 
No. 2, also from Shanghai. He was as short as 
the other was tall, rather cramped, and his Jew- 
ish face held little promise. He sank down on 
the bench. "Oh, la! la! I pay for all. I am 
so happy ! I got my trunks through. I have no 
duty. All that lace — all that silk! Nobody 
saw one yard. Won't you have something else? 99 
In the next compartment to mine was an Eng- 
lish woman, whose husband is in an embassy at 
Pekin. She had two children. One was a little 
girl of ten. She was much excited by the coming 
of this live prince. Their compartment was the 
last in the regular train and the prince's car 
would come next. It was being very near. 



52 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



The prince's car was hitched on. Anna saw 
the men enter. 

"Which is the prince? Do you know? Do 
you suppose anyone will know? " she asked. 

Everyone knew before the next stop. It was 
the tall, young fellow, with a good English face 
and a slight limp. There were two tall, lanky 
young men in his suite, to say nothing of older 
and shorter varieties. Anna sat often on one of 
the seats that one can turn down, at the long 
aisle. They are for looking out of the window. 
Anna sat there to see if the prince might pass. 
He eYidently had a penchant for dining in his 
own car. The sen-ants went to the first service 
table and the suite to the second. 

One day a pleasant old gentleman in the suite 
spoke to the child. She was radiant. 

" Prince Arthur is going all the way to London 
with us. The old gentleman can't go. He has 
to escort the Queen Mother home." 

Anna's mother had received a letter, asking 
her to look out for Bobby Somebody, if Prince 
Arthur came to Pekin. Anna picked Bobby out. 
" I believe he's that very tall one, who smiles and 
swears," she said. 



ANNA AND THE PRINCE 53 



He did swear. 

From Manchuria station to Kharbine there 
were forest fires every little while. They were 
made and tended by soldiers. The fires were 
built in parallel rows, and then in lines going in 
the other direction, like a checker board. The 
soldiers usually stand by to see the fires burn. 
After dark, it was like the long grasp of a giant, 
who was marking off the world with fingers of 
fire. 

They came near the train. One afternoon, 
near Borzia, we stopped short. The fires had 
crept down to the very track. Two porters went 
forward to see if the train could pass through 
the flames. 

The Prince and his suite sauntered out. The 
one whom we called Swearing Bobby roundly 
cursed the train and all its servants, and he ven- 
tured to advise them to go on and not lose any 
more time. 

His diagnosis was not far out of the way. 
After the two porters had looked at the fire they 
came slowly back, talking gravely to each other. 
They waved their arms wildly, swung on the 
train, and we were off through the fire. 



54 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



At the stations they have a delightful way of 
announcing the time of the departure of trains. 
A bell rings once as the train pulls in. Five 
minutes before departure the bell rings twice, 
and just before the train starts it rings three 
times. 

I had gotten in soon after the two bells each 
time all day, and the train had stayed on in- 
definitely. At Khilok the pleasant American 
woman with whom I was walking agreed that it 
was too bad to go in one minute before we had 
to. The air was clear and crisp and biting. 

Ding — dong! We continued to promenade. 

Ding — dong — dong ! And we were opposite 
the middle of a car. The train slid along. We 
ran to the nearest steps. The door was closed. 
We ran to the next. I hoisted the lady, and took 
a long jump myself. It is doubtful if I should 
have come by that particular train, if the strong 
arm of Swearing Bobby had not helped me. 

There we were on the platform of the car, en- 
tirely blocked with wood, which had been thrown 
aboard. We were in most high society. I was 
next the prince, who was smiling and gay, while 
we waited for the porter to push the wood aside. 



ANNA AND THE PEINCE 55 



Each car has a heating system of its own, and 
wood is taken on frequently. I went to tell 
Anna about it and I wished it might have been 
she who had had the experience. 



CHAPTER VII 



IRKUTSK 

OUR route lay through Stretensk, on the 
Shilka River, and Chita, which is a large 
town and well worth visiting. Like all the Si- 
berian towns, it was made by exiles. These men 
took the little clump of huts which comprised the 
place, drained the marshes, filled in the swamps, 
and entered into commerce with their neighbors. 
The main street is called Damskaya, or Ladies' 
Street, in honor of the brave women who followed 
their husbands into exile. There are still many 
Cossacks at Chita, — and wherever they are, one 
is not apt to languish for excitement. 

Between Sokhodno and Yablonovaya is the 
tunnel on which is carved on the east end " To 
the Pacific " and on the west end " To the At- 
lantic.'' 

Irkutsk is the capital of Siberia, and it is at 

Irkutsk that all the Trans-Siberian world has to 

change from one train to another, which stands 

56 



IRKUTSK 



57 



alongside. Coming westward, the change occurs 
at eleven o'clock at night. There are probably 
reasons for it, but my layman's eyes fail to per- 
ceive them. They had oiled that train every two 
or three hours, from Kharbine to Irkutsk. There 
is a large receptacle for oil on the top of every 
axle, and they pour the fluid into the boxes un- 
til it runs over. Perhaps the wheels cannot 
stand such oiling all the way across the conti- 
nent. Be that as it may, you and your baggage 
descend at Irkutsk. 

Porters, who are six feet tall, enter the com- 
partment and fight for the privilege of taking 
your baggage. They are so huge, with white 
aprons strapped about them and a conspicuous 
number on their blouses, that one feels sure that 
they could quickly dispossess the train of all lug- 
gage without effort. They have no such wish, 
however. They are only after a few kopeks. 

When the better man stood before me, I sat 
on my five pieces of luggage until I said, in halt- 
ing Eussian, " Take it to the platform," with a 
" Pahzhals " added, of course. It had taken a 
good hour to piece that sentence together from 
the phrase-book, and then to glue it into my mind. 



58 



ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



As it was, it had to be repeated three times before 
the porter grabbed a suitcase and waved it for 
assent, saying " Da, da, da, da." 

In some way the news that I was to stay over 
at Irkutsk had gotten about. The passengers 
came in twos and threes to beg that I would re- 
consider the plan. The advice was very tempt- 
ing. The people on the train had been pleasant 
and it would have been comfortable to go on. I 
half wished I was to know Irkutsk only from 
post-cards. Besides, everybody was agreed that 
it was an unheard-of thing to do, alone; and, as 
the American argued, 

" You can't tell what will happen, if you stop 
in Irkutsk, but if you stay on this train you'll 
surely reach Moscow." 

One point, at least, was settled : if one was to 
stop at Irkutsk, some arrangement must be made 
in advance. The Chef-de-train spoke only 
Russian, with a few words of French and no 
German. I addressed myself to the Sous-chef, 
a comely young man, who spoke perfect French. 
The train staff changes at Irkutsk. He was de- 
scending from the train, he would himself take 
me to the hotel, and he would telegraph in ad- 



IEKUTSK 



59 



vance. Everything seemed smooth and easy. I 
wasn't likely to perish while there was a French- 
speaking person about. 

The prince's secretary went through the train 
just before dinner at night and I knew from the 
happy faces about that he had been distributing 
the coin of the realm. 

The Legation Lady and I went in to dinner. 
The Sous-chef is in charge of the dining car. 
He was sitting at a table with two other railroad 
officials, and they were drinking. Dinner on 
the Trans-Siberian is not a long feast — only 
three courses, not counting the vodka, which is 
passed first, and the cordials, which come after. 

Very soon, one of the men was waving a 
twenty-five ruble note aimlessly in the air. He 
tried to put his cap on his head. They were all 
excited, but the dapper Sous-chef still had control 
of himself. The head waiter tried to get his at- 
tention, to have him walk about and collect the 
money for dinner. The Sous-chef rose, pulled 
down his military coat, and with legs well apart 
made the rounds without accident. 

But woe and woe! To be taken to the hotel 
by that man? 



60 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



The Legation Lady helped me. Together we 
sought the Chef-de-train and explained to him 
in three languages that his assistant was drunk, 
and that I did not want him as an escort. The 
Chef smiled a kind smile, and waved his large 
hand. " Ich — moi. Bleeskah le quai." 

" Bleeskah? " 

" Bleeskah." 

It might mean across or near. The word 

was cozily in the phrase-book, and it meant 
close-by. 

There was nothing to do but leave it to Provi- 
dence and the Chef-de-train. The Legation 
Lady put her children to sleep and came in to 
lie down in my cabin. That encouraging man 
in the office at Shanghai had given me a com- 
partment to myself. Monsieur Frangais No. 1 
and Monsieur Frangais No. 2 arrived to say 
goodbye. 

" I see you start. Anything I can do? " 
Monsieur Frangais No. 2 said it. 

Siberian trains are on time. We rolled up 
to several stations five minutes before we were 
due; but just to prove the rule it was half past 
eleven when we heard the first bell at Irkutsk. 



IRKUTSK 



61 



It was as dark as a black cat. I could feel 
my courage ebbing. It was soon at low tide. 

As winter comes on, bands of half-wild dogs 
trot to the incoming trains in search of scraps. 
They are said to attack anyone who is alone and 
who stops. I spoke to them often. They 
hardly looked up. They turned their heads and 
ran. They were scudding under the train now. 
The porter and the luggage and I waited on the 
platform. Two soldiers were guarding the 
prince's car. Happy man! He was going on 
to Moscow. 

The Chef-de-train appeared. He talked to the 
porter, and that individual disappeared with the 
five pieces of luggage. I waved my hand to 
them in the darkness. If I never saw them 
again, they'd feel better to be together. The 
Chef took me into the restaurant, the only wait- 
ing-room of a Siberian station, and turned his 
honest eyes upon me, his ten fingers held up. 
" Dix minutes/' he said. 

It was a pleasant ten minutes. The passen- 
gers came to have tea and other liquids, and 
to see if the cigarets were any better at Irkutsk 
than on the train. General Carrington told me 



62 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



years ago that the Indians say the white man 
always plays with his mouth. He is forever 
smoking or drinking or chewing or eating. 

The American and the Englishman wanted to 
know if they could do anything for me. It was 
Monsieur Frangais No. 2, the squat little Jew, 
who did not ask, who camped in a chair near 
by. 

The door opened. The Sous-chef swaggered 
in. Hat in hand, and heels perilously near to- 
gether, he inquired if everything was right. 

My heart stood still. I could see the dark- 
ness outside, and I heard the second bell for the 
Wagon-lit train. Would that I were on it ! 

I found voice to say, " I am waiting — " 

" For the Chef-de-train," he said, taking the 
words out of my mouth. 

He stood at attention. After a moment, he 
bowed punctiliously and retired. 

Still Monsieur Frangais No. 2 sat there. I 
reminded him of his valuable lace, which would 
go on without him, if he missed the train. 

"Lace? Yes. One thousand dollars lace. 
But lady 'lone at Irkutsk? Impossible." 

Nothing would make him go. 



IEKUTSK 



63 



The restaurant was now nearly empty. In 
the corners, peasants were huddled together, 
with their bundles. An occasional woman slept 
on the benches around the room. The swinging 
door opened, and the Chef-de-train's bulky figure 
wedged through it. At last! Then Monsieur 
le Frangais got up. 

" Goo' night. Bon voyage. We'll t'ink." 

His squat back shone with scintillating kind- 
ness, as he rushed to his train. 

The Chef strode ahead with the resounding 
step of the Eussian man. He held the door and 
raised his hand. A droshky drove toward us. 
Station cabs in any land are not paragons. 
This was not. We pitched and rolled. As if 
that wasn't enough, the Chef's deep bass 
growled a few words to the cabman, and he 
whipped up his horse until we were flying 
through the frosty air with great leaps and 
starts. 

I liked it. Siberian horses filled me with 
wonder all the way. Yesterday, I saw a middle- 
aged mare playing hide-and-seek through the 
trees with her foal. When the drivers want to 
stop their horses, they make a queer little br-r-r-r 



64 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



with their tongues. It's a caressing sound, and 
the horse stops instantly. 

We had arrived at the entrance to a long 
bridge. There was toll to be paid for its up- 
keep. We went on and on interminably. It 
was bitterly cold, and I shivered under the furs. 



CHAPTER VIII 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 

THE hotel was ablaze with light. In the 
restaurant, the orchestra was playing 
" The Count of Luxembourg." We stepped in- 
side the warm, lighted building. Monsieur le 
Chef-de-train was talking to the proprietor, and 
I looked about. It was one o'clock at night, but 
it might as well have been mid-day. There didn't 
seem to be a vacant seat in the restaurant. 

The Kussian conversation was still continu- 
ing, so I walked over to have a glimpse of the 
tables. I fancied no one would see me. In- 
stantly, three officers were at my side — as if 
by magic. I simply walked back to the Chef- 
de-train, and stood close beside him. The offi- 
cers faded into the distance, and I didn't even 
look towards the restaurant again. 

My passport was given to the proprietor. I 
bade Monsieur le Chef good-night, and went up 
the uneven staircase with a porter. The steps 

65 



66 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



were not all the same height, so coming up or 
going down was a series of adventures. There 
were mirrors and wax flowers on the landing. 

Three rubles — a ruble is fifty -two cents — 
was the limit that I wished to pay for a room. 
I had been told on the train that I must fix the 
price, for the hotels have a sliding scale of 
charges. The room was on the second floor. It 
was long, with one window and one door. 
Heavy velvet curtains hung over the door and 
the window. Fancy blue velour covered the 
bed. 

There were no sheets or pillow-cases. When 
I drew the attention of the chambermaid to this, 
she smiled and said, 

" Da, da, da." The linen, for which an extra 
charge is made, was brought. The chamber- 
maid couldn't tuck the sheets in, because they 
didn't reach the foot. That's a detail. For- 
tunately, I am not very tall. The bed was made 
for the Eussian masculine height. 

There were double windows, and paper was 
pasted over the cracks. I took my nail file and 
drew it down the paper, the length of the win- 
dow. It was an unnecessary effort. Under- 




Village compound of Anuj-Noir, in the Altai district 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 67 



neath the paper was putty. Both the outer 
double windows and the inner ones were puttied 
up for the winter. No breath of air was to en- 
ter that room until spring. 

There was a good writing-table, another table 
for the service of meals, a sofa, and four chairs, 
besides a wardrobe. The wash-stand was an 
elaborate affair of marble and wood, with the 
water held in a reservoir above the bowl and 
drawn by means of a faucet. There was only 
one defect in the arrangement — there was no 
stopper in the basin. The nice little chamber- 
maid brought a cork, which we wrapped in paper, 
and it served perfectly. 

She brought a great jug of boiling water for 
my bath. What more could one ask? God was 
in His heaven, — the faces that I loved looked 
over from the desk, — where could one be more 
safe? 

The sleep of the weary is deep, and I was not 
quite ready for my breakfast when it appeared 
as ordered at nine. 

I have a provincial longing for cream in my 
coffee, which was arrived at by means of the 
Russian phrase-book, from which I was never 



68 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



separated. The sounds are extremely difficult. 
People don't understand, even when you think 
you are getting moderately near the correct pro- 
nunciation. In this happy book, there are three 
parallel columns, giving respectively the Eng- 
lish, the Russian, and the pronunciation. One 
can always point to the Russian phrase. The 
little chamber-maid did not read quickly. I 
kept my thumb on the important word, and in 
a minute she had the whole idea. The Siberian 
butter is very good. It is doled out in large 
pats. 

The parting words of the Chef-de-train had 
been to the effect that he would be back at ten 
o'clock. It was already past ten. I began to 
have doubts. With only two days at one's dis- 
posal one must not miss the high mass at the 
largest church. 

In the hotel corridor there was no one who 
spoke even German. My infallible book saved 
the day. The sentence was made up and said. 
It failed to hit the mark. I said it again, with 
no better success. Then I showed it to them — 
one word on one page and one on another. They 
understood everything but church. That word 



A SIBEKIAN HOTEL 69 



wasn't to be found and it was the keynote of the 
situation. I walked aimlessly into the deserted 
restaurant, and on the opposite corner of the 
street was a church ! — I drew a small church 
on a piece of paper, then a larger one, and a 
larger. Since we were getting down to particu- 
lars, I did want to go to the largest. Every- 
body was happy. 

" Pahneemah'yoo — pahneemah'yoo." 

The porter, whom I was seeing for the first 
time, talked a long while to the cabby, — and 
I started off. Every block or so there was a 
church. Some had more spires, some had less. 
Would that driver know which one? Taking my 
life in my hands, I rose to my feet. Did the 
izvostchik regard that as anything unusual? 
We simply went faster. I took a good hold of 
his pretty metal belt and said, 

" Blagovestchensk." 

If he could only have answered " Da " or 
" Net," I should have understood. He said a 
long, long sentence and whipped his horse. On 
the train they had told me that cabbies took 
their fares to prison and made awful complaints 
against them. We had passed churches enough 



70 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



for two towns and were still going forward at a 
sprightly gait. 

What useless fears ! We were drawing up in 
front of a church and it was the Blagovestchenk. 
I had seen a picture of it. 

The wooden steps were lined with beggars. 
One who was lame threw his hat in front of me. 
Another beggar pushed the hat away with his 
foot. Another opened the door. Inside, they 
were celebrating mass. The priest wore a gor- 
geous red and gold chasuble, and his acolyte was 
clothed in the same colors. 

There are no organs in Greek churches, no 
instruments of any sort. The vibrant tones of 
the male choir rose and fell in minor thirds. 
The priest's voice was a beautiful, strong bass. 
The low arches gave back an echo. The musical 
cadence rose in gushes of sound until one boy's 
voice held the last exultant note. The music 
thrilled and stilled me. 

An old woman, kneeling on the floor, swayed 
back and forth, kissing the stones. There were 
no chairs. There were not even mats — simply 
the stone floor. The congregation either stood 
or knelt. The women wrapped in furs stood; 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 



71 



the women with shawls over their heads and the 
men in blouses knelt. There were no men with 
the well-dressed women. Even the incense had 
a different odor, a spicy, alluring smell. The 
altar was all gilt ; gold and precious stones were 
everywhere. At the entrance of each church 
there is a fenced-off space for the sale of candles. 
The worshippers! take their tapers and kneel 
before the chosen shrine; then, rising, light 
the taper from another, and leave it to burn 
for the glory of the saint and the joy of the be- 
holder. 

A voice beside me said, 

" Bonjour, Madame." 

There was the hearty face of the Chef-de-train, 
and beside him Monsieur le Sous-chef — as fit as 
if he hadn't drunk a drop the night before. 
Even the whites of his eyes were clear and shin- 
ing. We walked through the cathedral, and then 
went over to the oldest church in Irkutsk. There 
were three huge bells in the windows of the 
cupola. They were seldom rung. 

This was Sunday, you remember. A priest, 
with the long robe and long beard of his class, 
came through the door. Halt and lame, the 



72 ACKOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



beggars, to a man, rose and took off their caps. 
He stopped to speak to the oldest beggar. 

This church was built of white cement, and 
its turrets were green, with an occasional gold 
picture at the top of the windows. The low, 
round arches and huge columns of the interior 
were white too. The same spicy incense filled 
the air. There was only one old man tending 
the counter. 

The archbishop's house adjoined the church, 
— a rambling white shack, of some pretentious- 
ness. A soldier guarded the entrance. Soldiers 
are not at a premium. In Siberia, they are 
strewn around with a liberal hand, both in town 
and in the country. In the country, they hunt 
in twos, and you may find them on a mountain 
or on the plain. 

We walked into town, passing stretches of 
high board fence and buildings of all varieties. 
There is no sort of order in the architecture of 
Irkutsk. Adjoining a good-sized brick building 
will be a shanty. Most of the houses are built 
of logs. It is difficult to remember that one is 
four thousand miles east of Moscow. 

The few descriptions of Irkutsk had spoken of 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 73 



it as the Paris of Siberia. The only points of 
likeness that a casual survey gives are that 
Irkutsk has the sins, the false hair, and the per- 
fume, for which Paris is noted. 

The shops are stucco-faced and whitewashed, 
with green roofs. Looking over the town, it 
appears to be made of green and white, with 
streaks of mud. 

The sidewalks were full of people. The Chef 
took the outside and the Sous-chef the inside, 
while I walked between. If a band of officers 
stretched too far across the walk, Monsieur le 
Chef strode ahead and there was room. We 
walked up and down the Esplanade, which is at 
the head of the principal street, " Bolsche Kaya," 
or Great Street. The river looked cold and for- 
bidding. 

Monsieur le Sous-chef translated for his 
superior. The Angara river freezes from the 
bottom up, and in the spring thaws in the same 
way. Even in the hot mid-day of August no 
one bathes in the river ; it is too cold. There is 
a local tale of a man who found the summer heat 
insupportable and jumped into the river to cool 
off. He went down, seized by cramp. 



74 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



" In the winter, Madame, the skating is won- 
derful. You should see it ! " 

Across the street was the Museum, of brown 
stone, which, with the Theater, forms the pride 
of the citizen's heart. I noticed that Monsieur 
le Chef paid some slight entrance fee. The 
collection embraces specimens of Siberian ore, 
game, fish and animals. It is not complete, but 
the plan is well thought out and the arrangement 
is interesting. Early Siberian implements and 
utensils are well represented. There are dressed 
figures of Buriats, Tulugus, and many others. 
The Chef called my attention to the specimens 
of rhinoceros and other mammals, which are 
found in the Lena valley, in the " urnians," or 
morasses, of Siberia. The Russian peasant be- 
lieves that these animals still exist, for after a 
particularly cold winter, when a river-bank is 
demolished by the ice-packs, the remains of these 
monsters are found. They have been so well 
preserved that one can hardly believe that they 
come from another period of the world's history. 
There is a ready market for the ivory thus ob- 
tained. 

From the Museum we walked up the Bolsche 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 75 



Kaya to the Hotel Central. My guardians in- 
quired if I was dining in my room. 

" No, I'm coming down, because I want to see 
the people." 

" The people are anxious to see you/' the Sous- 
chef said. " The proprietor was hoping you 
would come down." 

From my room, at one o'clock, I heard the 
orchestra begin with a true Wagnerian fanfare 
of violins and drums. They were singing the 
drinking chorus from " Pagliacci." 

I bustled about. If I must represent America, 
I would do my best. Out came my newest Paris 
street gown, good shoes, my only hat, brushed 
to a finish — and I descended, escorted by that 
book of Pierre Coulevain's, which has been so 
much discussed, " L'lle Inconnu." Head up and 
eyes down, I walked the length of the dining- 
room and sat down in an alcove, where I could 
see everything but where I should not be so 
much observed. 

While the menu was being served, several 
things occurred. The proprietor, egged on by 
that active Chef-de-train, had made the menu 
half American and half Russian. It began with 



76 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



a soup that is the delight of the Bussian heart — 
bortseh. It is made of stock, to which cabbage 
and beets are added. It is eaten hot and in 
great quantities, with unsweetened whipped 
cream. Little p&tes, containing chopped meat, 
accompanied it. This first course was an en- 
tire dinner in itself. A delicious salmon fol- 
lowed, roast beef, and a sort of dessert not un- 
like ladylocks in America. The whole cost was 
three rubles. 

The dining-room had a stage at one end. The 
orchestra played. Six girls — not so very young 
— sang sometimes on the stage and at other 
times walked about and drank at the tables. 
It was a simple cafe chantant. There were com- 
paratively few people. In the evening, there is 
usually a crowd. 

After dinner, I wished to inquire about the 
Lutheran church, because one of the books on 
Siberia that I had read had spoken of the pastor 
with enthusiasm. 

That morning I had seen the pastor of the 
Protestant church drive up in a droshky. He 
carefully lowered his bulky form to the side- 
walk, counted out the fare, gave it to the cabby, 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 77 



took the remainder of his cigar from his mouth 
and added that as a pourboire. It was well re- 
ceived. The cabby took off his hat. I wanted 
to know if this was the Lutheran church, op- 
posite. 

It was an idle question. It was asked in my 
best German, still, no one knew. The barber 
wasn't in evidence. The gar§on who spoke Ger- 
man said he was Catholic. 

I let it go at that, 

I had a half-formed plan to drive. It was 
useless ; I shouldn't be able to make them under- 
stand. I went upstairs, feeling a bit alone. 

In a few minutes, a knock came at my door. 
I opened it, thinking it might be the Chef-de- 
train, although I had said to him that I should be 
writing all the afternoon. The head waiter and 
another man stood there. The man spoke in 
French. He said that he was a Frenchman, but 
that his business was in Eussia, and that the 
office, or to speak more correctly the corridor, 
was afraid that I needed something, and that he 
had come to see if he could be of any assistance. 

He came in, and we stood talking. He rep- 
resented the concentrated essence of the curiosity 



78 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



of the hotel. I was glad to explain. It was 
only fair. 

" Why are you here, Madame? " he asked. 

I told him about my best beloved, and how I 
chanced to be crossing the continent alone. 

" It's only an American who would have 
stopped at Irkutsk/' he said. " Not many Amer- 
ican women have seen this town. There are two 
of my friends — Frenchmen — down stairs. 
We're dining in the restaurant. If you would 
condescend to come down, we should be delighted. 
You can depend absolutely upon us. We un- 
derstand that you're an American. It would be 
a great pleasure if you would dine with us." 

I thanked him, and explained that I had al- 
ready been in the restaurant for nearly two hours 
and that I should not feel comfortable to go 
down again. 

Within half an hour there came another knock 
at the door. It was another Frenchman. He 
said they had finished dining and they thought 
if I did not care to come down to the restaurant 
I might enjoy a drive. He said they were leav- 
ing on the ten o'clock train. They would all 
go, and the drive should be only as long as I 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 79 



chose. Any time that I wished, they would bring 
me back to the hotel. 

I longed for a breath of air but I knew that 
it was not best to go. I thanked him, telling him 
that I'd like to go, but that I was quite alone in 
Irkutsk and it did not seem wise. I told him 
about my writing, and that it kept loneliness 
away. That wasn't quite true. I was really 
homesick that Sunday afternoon. 

An hour later the work was interrupted for 
the third time. I guessed who it must be. Yes 
— it was the third Frenchman. Like his friends, 
he had an honest face. 

" We've been talking it over," he said, " and 
we thought you might enjoy seeing the Irkutsk 
Club. You couldn't go there alone. We have 
guest cards, and we should be glad to take you. 
We'll all go together and you can come home 
whenever you like. We have to be back in the 
hotel by nine-thirty to catch our train." 

I had heard about the Irkutsk Club on the In- 
ternational train. They had told me that young 
school-girls of sixteen and eighteen went there 
in their gymnasium suits to take supper with 
officers. There were no chaperons, and these 



80 ACBOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



young girls of what were called good families 
were permitted to drink champagne. I longed to 
see if it was true, but it was not to be on this 
trip. I had another twenty-four hours to stay 
in Irkutsk, and I had been warned of the perils 
of the place. 

This I explained, reluctantly, to the third 
Frenchman. 

" But your book, Madame ! " 

" Bien — it could not be." 

When we had thrashed it out and the decision 
remained the same, he told me that they would 
be sitting in the restaurant until half past nine, 
and if I wanted them to translate anything they 
were there at my service. Then he went away. 

I couldn't write. My mind was a miserable 
blank. A sudden, appalling loneliness settled 
over me — a haunting ache to see my family. 
Even the pictures did not help. America was 
nearly ten thousand miles away. I wished that 
someone — anyone — would come to the door, so 
that I might hear a human voice. 

In desperation I rang for the gargon and or- 
dered a supper, which I couldn't eat, just to see 
a mortal face. There wasn't a breath of air. 



A SIBERIAN HOTEL 81 



The room was stifling, but I did not dare to 
open the door into the hall. As for going down 
to the corridor, where there were blasts of cold 
air, I knew that was out of the question too. 
The only relief was to lean up against the cold 
window and look out at the chilly night. 

I was playing that I was a little girl, and 
little girls don't go out without their families. 
Since I was a little girl I let myself listen to the 
footsteps in the hall, to see if perchance they 
would stop at my door. They never did. In 
the streets were officers hurrying along. One 
man in a long cape ran across the street towards 
the hotel. The lights from the corridor struck 
across his shiny boots and his white trousers. 
I set myself to making up a story about him. 
The droshkies that passed were outlined in 
shadow and the tall caps of the drivers became 
gnomes' hats. I wished I was out there. I 
longed for air — one breath of air, — and that 
room all puttied up ! 

Eap — rap — rap! My heart came into my 
mouth. It was ten o'clock. Should I go to the 
door? It was a gorgeously clothed officer in 
white and blue and gold. He spoke in Russian^ 



82 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



and with my heart beating one hundred counts 
to the minute I could make nothing of it. 

" Ne pahneemah'yoo." And I shut the door 
and bolted it, besides putting what movable 
furniture there was in front of it. I said my 
prayers and slept. 



CHAPTER IX 



A DRIVE IN A DROSHKY 

IT was eight o'clock when my eyes opened, — 
eight o'clock and a perfect early winter day! 
The gloom of the night before had fled. It 
hardly seemed to be the same Irkutsk. 

I had been invited to a real Siberian house, 
for a real Siberian supper, at six o'clock on 
Monday. 

The morning was given over to the banks and 
the shops. Banks were plentiful in this pros- 
perous town. The Banque de Bussie was op- 
posite the hotel, — an imposing, round-front 
stone structure. The kind porter insisted on 
walking to the corner with me. A beggar opened 
the heavy doors. 

" Gde bahnk menyahlah? " 

He pointed up the stairs. Although it was 
after ten, the place was deserted. The demand 
for someone who spoke French brought a young- 
ish man, with a Monday-morning face. Letters 

83 



84 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



of credit of any bank except the Russian are of 
great inconvenience in Siberia. I had American 
Express checks. On the dining car of the In- 
ternational they had not wished to cash them. 
Here they were more easily pleased, but it took 
time. I was the only customer, and yet it took 
an hour to acquire four hundred rubles. The 
time passed quickly. The interpreter told me 
about Irkutsk, about the shops and the theater 
and some of the customs. He was proud of his 
city. 

"Do you find this place like America, 
Madame? " 

" You like Irkutsk? » 

First one would ask a question, then the other. 
Meanwhile clerks arrived. Plainly, an hour 
more or less was not regarded as of consequence. 
The late-coming clerk shook hands with his com- 
rades, and smoked a cigaret before he went to 
his desk. At half past ten a servant brought 
a glass of hot Russian tea to everybody. I was 
included in the mid-forenoon refreshment. 
There were no chairs. The public is not en- 
couraged to sit down in banks in Russia. We 
walked about and watched the men counting 



A DRIVE IN A DROSHKY 85 



on the abacus. They can not add two and two 
without moving from four to eight balls on the 
wires. It reminds one of a kindergarten. 

The manager of the bank was not visible; he 
was in a private office. The assistant manager 
had a desk next the teller, and they held a long 
conversation before the actual cash was given 
to me. The interpreter told me that they had 
heard there was an American woman in town. 

" America must be paradise/' he sighed. " It's 
a long way off." 

The Bolsche Kaya was lined with shops. 
Every other one was a perfumery or hair store. 
The most voluminously encircled heads are seen 
in Siberia, and they are topped by a towering 
mass of fur and feathers, which calls itself a hat. 
I entered one shop after another, and bought 
paper and envelopes, postal cards, a boy's hat 
and two officer's belts. Of the lot, there was 
only one clerk who spoke anything but Russian. 
The shops were well stocked but prices were high 
and there was no variety. The windows of the 
fruit shops were most tempting, with luscious 
apples and grapes and pears from Central Asia. 
There were two confectioners' shops in the 



86 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



Bolsche Kaya. I bought an appetizing loaf of 
sweetness, covered with almonds. In Siberia 
there is a pleasant, black paste, with walnuts, 
which is very good. 

Before the supper, I wanted to take a drive 
around the town. That meant another excur- 
sion to the corridor. I asked for the manager, 
who speaks innocuous French. 

" Net." He w r as sleeping, in preparation for 
the night. Then I pleaded for some Deutsch- 
mann. My German is pale and young, but in 
a better state of health than my Russian. A 
florid youth emerged from the barber shop, and 
together we worked out a program for a drive 
about the city and its outskirts. It was really 
the head porter who made out the itinerary. 
He speaks only Russian, but he knew by intui- 
tion all the details that the barber couldn't quite 
comprehend, even in German. 

The porter belongs to the small family of per- 
fect sympathizers, whom God scatters over the 
earth, in white, red, black and yellow skins. 
I've met them in every land. They need no in- 
troduction, nor any common language, simply 
the speech of the soul — and they understand. 



A DEIVE IN A DROSHKY 



87 



The barber said that it was to be a set-up 
droshky, and that it would be one ruble an hour. 
Ordinarily, the droshkies are only fifty or 
seventy kopeks. The difference appears to be 
in the newness of the carriage and the livery 
of the driver. This man wore a marvellous 
leather belt, studded with metal. 

The governments of Irkutsk and Yeniseisk 
make up eastern Siberia. Including the Amur 
region, Siberia represents one-thirteenth of the 
land of the earth, and is one and one-half times 
as large as all Europe. The vastness of the 
country was visible even in the city. There would 
be a half block of wooden houses crowded to- 
gether, — then a block of mud. At the end of 
that, the city spirit took possession of things 
again, and a brick building lifted its head; and 
so it went. 

Irkutsk is on the right bank of the Angara 
river, opposite the mouth of the Irkut. It is 
the capital of Siberia, — that is why I so wished 
to see it. Tomsk was formerly much larger 
than Irkutsk, but the latter city has run well 
ahead since the railroad was built. It was laid 
out in 1652. For years it consisted of a dot on 



88 



ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



the map and a log house or two. With the 
coming of the railroad, the town was flooded 
with officers and workmen. Its prosperity 
dates only from ten years ago. Today it looks 
much as a Nebraska town might have looked 
fifteen years ago, with the exception that the 
shops are more pretentious, better housed and 
better stocked. 

The population of Irkutsk is variously stated. 
A medium estimate seems to be 75,000. The 
city, like all Siberia, occupies itself with the 
question of education, and spends ten per cent, 
of its income on schools. The Museum, the 
Technical School, the Theater and the Garrison 
are all imposing, handsome buildings. There is 
a good-sized observatory in the town. Irkutsk 
boasts of a public library, an art school, a high 
school for boys and one for girls, besides forty 
lower schools. As in all Russian cities, there 
are many philanthropic institutions. 

Irkutsk is an exile-made town. It owes its 
museum, its schools, all its virtues and all its 
vices to exiles. In the Museum, yesterday, 
Monsieur le Chef showed me the founders of that 
institution. All of them were political pris- 



A DRIVE IN A DROSHKY 



89 



oners, cultivated, learned, fearless men. There 
were criminal exiles too, and their descendants 
mar the town today. 

We were evidently headed straight for the 
country, past the Cathedral, and past the monu- 
ment that was erected in memory of the visit 
of the Tsar, when he came up the river to Ir- 
kutsk, before the railroad was built. The sum- 
mer gardens were deserted and closed, and a 
worrying wind shook the bare branches of the 
trees. A twig had blown against a wooden 
bench, and tapped and tapped with its ghostly 
hand. The low wooden houses are a cross be- 
tween a sea-shore cottage and an Alpine 
chalet. The roofs are low and there is much 
ornamentation. A triple gate protects each 
house. It is composed of a large center gate for 
horses, with a gate for foot passers on either side. 
The gates and the houses are both ugly. 

We bumped over the uneven cobble-stones to 
the drive by the river. The Governor's house, on 
the right, was a large, white mansion, guarded by 
a sentry. 

" The Governor has room to walk around/' as 
one of the Russians said. 



90 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



We drove by the Esplanade, where there is a 
monument and a pavilion or two. Tonight there 
were twenty or thirty dump-carts working on an 
extension of the Esplanade. 

The only way to stay in a droshky on those 
wretched Siberian cart-paths — one can hardly 
call them roads — is to lean well back and brace 
yourself with your feet. You must take hold 
of one side of the carriage, if you expect to keep 
your post. As far as exercise is concerned, driv- 
ing in a droshky is far ahead of horseback. The 
bumps are much harder and there is no rhythm 
about them. 

We had gone out past the stately Technical 
School and the Garrison. The izvostchik took a 
sudden notion to return to town, and in the 
twinkling of an eye we had faced about, — right 
side up, but surprised and jarred. How that 
horse did go ! 

He was an artist — this izvostchik. 

The sun was setting. Across the river the hills 
were outlined by a fringe of trees against the 
shining sky, like the fuzz of the coachman's fur 
cap. There was no color. A scintillating, 
golden light came from the sky and from the 



A DEIVE IN A DEOSHKY 91 



water. There was a fire on the shore and a kettle 
over it. A group of men and women stood about 
the fire, and their silhouettes gave off little 
sparkles, as they were outlined against the river. 
Soldiers were passing, and women who had over 
their heads the brown shawls that are so much 
worn here. Farther along there were store- 
houses, and boats moored to the shore. 

The road grew worse. We had lost the cobble. 
There were deep ruts in the caked mud, with 
several inches of dust on top of that, and thank- 
you-ma'ams that sent one straight into the air in 
spite of all precautions. At last I simply tried 
to land straight, with an unconcerned air. It 
was hard not to laugh out loud. 

I did so once, and two officers, who were pass- 
ing, whistled violently. 

" My error," — as our English cousins say. 

It made no difference where we were, the dust 
was appalling. It was like a thick mist at times. 
We passed the place where the squat watering 
carts come to get water from the river. One was 
being filled, but more than half the water was 
leaking from the side of the hose. The road was 
muddy for a distance. We met a bunch of steers 



92 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



being herded by two men on horseback. You 
might have seen the same thing in many a western 
town ten years ago. The sidewalks are like the 
West, too, — uneven wooden affairs, well above 
the level of the street, so that, when mud replaces 
this suffocating dust, pedestrians can still move 
about, 

Crossing the street is neither pleasant nor easy, 
because of the pointed cobbles, no two of which 
are on the same level. I admire the skill of the 
women, who walk about on French heels and in 
light gray and colored shoes. We passed one 
young working girl who wore them. She had no 
coat and no gloves. I was cold with furs on. 
She looked at her shoes and at the soldiers. A 
cloud of blinding dust blotted her out. 

It was difficult now to see which was cloud and 
which was dust. The figures in the distance 
were indistinct. Dogs sprang into life. Our 
droshky failed to please them. There was a final 
lurch, a quick turn, and there was the hotel. 



CHAPTER X 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 

' 'Ty 0BE — P a s/ ? Monsieur le Chef had said, 
1 v when he brought this invitation, from 
one of his friends, for supper. I understood. 
He meant that we were not to dress up. 

We rattled over across the town to a small 
house. The instant the droshky stopped, ten dogs 
rushed up, snapping and barking. They did not 
offer to touch us. The Chef grumbled a sentence 
and they disappeared. 

The room which we entered was not large. It 
was very warm. A chair or two and a table of 
the simplest sort were the only furniture. In an 
adjoining room was a long table. There were 
fourteen guests, and all but three spoke either 
French or German. The supper began with 
hors d'ceuvres, including a great array of canned 
fish. Next came bortsch, a national soup, the 
one with cabbage and whipped cream. Perock- 
ques, or the delicious meat pates, were served 
with the soup. Cold salmon, queerly dressed, 

93 



94 ACKOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



followed, and juicy woodcock, much larger than 
ours, browned potatoes and beets. The dessert 
consisted of sweet cakes and fruits, including a 
most appetizing melon. Wines were constantly 
changed. I do not drink, but this was not the 
place for scruples, and I sipped ten or twelve 
different sorts of stuff, including vodka, which is 
a cross between whisky and gin, and very horrid. 
They toasted America and my family and my 
voyage. No one drank very much, which sur- 
prised me. 

The hostess, a short, fat woman, with a kindly 
face and the usual blue eyes and brown hair, told 
me that cooks receive fifteen to twenty rubles a 
month, and chambermaids twelve to fifteen 
rubles. Both cooks and chambermaids smoke 
about their work. Well-trained servants are un- 
heard of. In this house a cook and a chamber- 
maid were kept. The serving at the table was 
done by the chambermaid, assisted by an extra 
cook, in a bright peasant costume, who had been 
hired for the day. 

Madame also explained to me that in the older 
Siberian houses the second story had partitions 
which reached only to within two feet of the low 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 95 



ceiling. This is in order that the warm air may 
circulate. The houses are generally heated by 
German porcelain stoves, built into the partition, 
half of the stove being in one room and half in 
the next, on the other side of the wall. The 
upper floor is often heated only by a funnel from 
the floor below. 

At this supper we were heaped with food and 
kindness and information. They assured me 
that Irkutsk was a safe place. No one should go 
in the side streets alone after dark — that was 
all. Of course, one kept one's doors locked, — 
and chained, for that matter. It was simply a 
precaution. You never could tell. Yesterday, 
a prominent man in the city had gone to church, 
and when he came home he found his cook killed, 
his house ransacked and all valuables taken. Of 
course it was a new country and one had to be 
careful. 

I asked this company about the prisons, for 
which Siberia is famous. There was instant 
volubility. I must see the prison at Alexan- 
drovski; it was only seventy versts from Ir- 
kutsk. 

Going out, we had heard something of the local 



96 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



jails from a retired Russian officer. This man's 
family had lived across the street from the jail in 
which prisoners were kept during their trial. 
The officer spoke of it flippantly. 

" We had to move/' he said. " There was the 
sound of chains all day and all night. We 
couldn't have the windows up in summer because 
of the groans of the devils. They never gave us 
any peace." 

The company approached the subject from an- 
other standpoint. I asked them to tell me about 
the exiles. This they did in great detail. There 
was no aversion to the subject; but they no longer 
jested. Was it imagination, that made me fancy 
that every head turned, each time someone en- 
tered the room? Speaking in French, which the 
servants did not understand, still they would not 
continue the subject when the maids were pres- 
ent. I will try to put down what they told me, 
with some sequence. 

The law of Russia classifies exiles under three 
heads : 

1. Criminal convicts, the " Katorgeny Rabot- 
niki," the mere mention of whom makes the 
Siberian mother gather her children closer. 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 97 



They are sentenced to penal servitude in various 
sections. 

2. Ordinary prisoners, who have committed 
minor offenses, and who are placed in prisons or 
jails. 

3. Political prisoners, who are supposed to 
have committed some crime against the govern- 
ment, and who are compelled to live in a stated 
district and under police supervision. 

I was most interested in the political exiles. 

" I should so like to meet one," I exclaimed. 

" Madame, you have already met one," a guest 
replied, rising and bowing. He was the most 
cultivated man in the room. 

Political exiles are of two kinds, those regularly 
sentenced by law and those who are subject to an 
" administrative order," from the Minister of the 
Interior. The latter have no trial, but are com- 
pelled to leave their homes and go into exile 
within a given number of hours. The guest had 
left his home under these circumstances. He 
was given twelve hours in which to go. His 
family remained to close up his affairs, joining 
him in Siberia later. 

A " political " may belong to a group that has 



98 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



rights, or to one that has not. Those belonging 
to the first class differ from the ordinary citizens 
only in having to sign their names once a week 
in a book that is kept by the head Xachalink. 
They are often watched by spies, and it is neces- 
sary for them to be most circumspect in speech 
and action. Russian walls have ears. 

The class of exiles " without rights " are per- 
mitted to enter a limited number of small trades, 
and the amount that they may earn is officially 
fixed. They must work very hard if they expect 
to obtain even the necessaries of life. 

In the country and in the large towns of Si- 
beria, twenty-five cents was accounted sufficient 
for food for a day. Plain food, with the excep- 
tion of butter, is cheap. Butter sold at retail 
for twenty-five cents a pound in Irkutsk in 1912. 
Articles that have to be brought from old Russia 
are high. 

For a man of refinement to be snatched from 
congenial surroundings and friends, and made 
to labor with peasants, and to live as an equal 
with people whose only recreation is eating and 
drinking — makes or breaks the man. 

There have been various manifestoes from 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 99 



Petersburg upon the exile question. Each one 
has improved the situation, and there is still op- 
portunity for betterment. 

The sympathy of the people is with the exiles, 
and in the country food and drink are often left 
in the open bath-houses. This is done partly 
through pity and partly through fear. Escaping 
convicts are desperadoes, who would barter life 
for a passport, and who spill blood easily. 

I said that I should be more afraid of the bears 
and wolves, which are abundant, than of the con- 
victs. A shout of derision arose. 

u Oh, no ! Madame. The convicts are to be 
feared. No one goes armed for wolves, in the 
country, but for convicts. When a man ap- 
proaches you and stops, be the first to shoot, — 
unless you are tired of life." 

The use of the knout is no longer sanctioned 
in the prisons, but a plet is used instead. This 
heavy whip, made of leather, weighs eight pounds, 
and a man can be killed by five blows with it. 

The next illustration shows the Eussian feeling 
about the instrument of torture. 

Women are never flogged, neither do they work 
in mines. Wives who go into exile with their 



100 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



husbands are allowed thirty-six pounds of bread 
a month, but they must conform to all the regu- 
lations under which their husbands live. 

The mines at Nerchinsk employ convicts. 
There may be others that do. The opinion of 
the company was divided. The village of Gorni 
Zeruntui is given up to criminals, and is reported 
to be no worse than any other place of like size. 
The worst type of politicals is sent to Akatui, 
140 miles from Nerchinsk. They are condemned 
to penal servitude. The province of Archangel, 
in the extreme north, is largely inhabited by 
politicals. It is a country of perpetual snow, 
and such summer as it has is very hot. 

I had read such frightful stories of the im- 
prisonment before trial, that I asked the exile 
about it. A change came over his face. 

" Some of us suffered. It wasn't hard for me. 
I was in prison only seven months before my 
trial. I taught from morning till night. They 
wouldn't have even allowed me to sleep, if the 
rest of the prisoners had had their way." 

He seemed to have touched a vital point in the 
exile system. The exiles are ravenous for knowl- 
edge. This man was studying English. We 




Preparing for the Knout," by Korovine 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 101 



spoke in French, because he would not trust him- 
self, but he stopped every other sentence to in- 
quire, 

" What's the English for that? " 

Once, during my journey, a Eussian friend 
translated two chapters of " Letters by Con- 
demned Bevolutionists," which was edited by 
Korolenko. It was the most heart-rending thing 
I ever heard. Those who wrote were nearly all 
young, — most of them students; condemned to 
die, and waiting in prison until the sentence 
should be executed. They say, over and over : 

" Is there no place for me, in the whole beauti- 
ful world? Must I die now, when I am strong 
and young and full of life? " 

The letters are many of them to mothers and 
fathers, — God pity them ! One letter said : 

" My pigeon parents, papaska, mamaska, and 
my little brother Nicolinsky : I am writing this 
letter with my blood, through the tears in my 
eyes. I am sending you my heart's love." 

" In America there are no exiles, Madame? 
Not one? " 

They look up to the United States as their 
ideal. However unworthy we may be, it is some- 



102 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



thing for our nation to inspire such enthusiasm 
as it does in Siberia, We took the last toast 
standing about the door: 

" America, mar we be like her ! " 

I changed it in my heart to " America, may she 
be worthy ! " 

It was after ten when we reached the hotel. 
I had asked for my bill all day, but it was only 
now ready. Here it is. Dinner was paid for in 
the restaurant. The daily charges were as fol- 



lows : 

Room, 3 rubles. 
Dinner, 2y 2 rubles. 

Candles, 30 kopeks 

Sheets and pillow-cases, . . 25 

Bread and butter, 25 

Coffee, 15 " 

Cream, 15 

Arranging passport, 35 

Light, 50 " 

Supper, V/ 2 rubles. 



The tips came to 2 rubles, thus making the total 
hotel expenses amount to 11 rubles, or approxi- 
mately §5.75, per day. 

Everybody in sight was feed, not forgetting 



AN EVENING WITH EXILES 103 



the porter. The luggage had gone ahead, and 
the proprietor bowed us to the droshky. At the 
station, my ticket was ready and the trunks were 
cheeked through to Moscow. I was introduced 
to the new chef de train. A railroad official 
asked if I had received a letter. 
" No." 

" There is one in Irkutsk for you, Madame. 
I'll see if I can get it." 

I remembered reading that no letter passes 
through a Russian post office without being 
opened. 

Monsieur le Chef and the railroad official stood 
by while I read the letter. The official was cos- 
mopolitan and from St. Petersburg. Monsieur 
le Chef leaned across and asked him, in Russian, 
if he could read the letter. 

" No," he said, " it's in English." 

It wasn't apparent which gave me the greater 
pleasure, the letter or being able to understand 
two whole sentences in Russian. 

On the train going out had been the President 
— (the Rector, as they call him) — of the School 
of Technology of the University of Tomsk. He 
and his wife had invited me to visit them on my 



104 ACROSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



return journey , and this letter was from them, 
giving me some extra instructions. Fortunately, 
my ticket allowed a stop-oyer. 

Monsieur le Chef said goodbye. As a last 
kindness, he gave me a letter to every railroad 
official whom I should be apt to meet. He wrote 
especially to the station masters at Taiga and 
Tomsk, lest my friends might not meet me. 
Among my precious possessions is a copy of this 
letter. Translated, it reads : 

" This is to introduce Madame Lee, travelling 
through Siberia and Moscow to America. 
Madame is of noble birth, and no harm must come 
to her. Great care should be taken in this re- 
spect." 

I shall always keep Monsieur le Chef de train 
in my remembrance gratefully. 

The Irkutsk incident was closed. The stay, 
looked forward to with fear, had held little that 
was not pleasant. Everybody had been so kind, 
so interested. Would Americans have been as 
good to a stranger? I think they would. The 
question would be more likely to resolve itself 
into a matter of time, in that dear land where 
everyone fancies he is so busy. 



CHAPTER XI 



THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY 

THE beginning of this road — the great 
Trans-Siberian railway — was markedly 
Russian. The story is told that after the Tsar 
Alexander II. decided that it should be built, he 
drew his finger across the map, and the railroad 
was laid through the territory covered by that 
line. There are times when some such tale is 
necessary to account for the vagrant wandering 
of the Great Siberian. When it became known 
that Russia was undertaking the work, American 
and German firms submitted bids. Russia is a 
jealous mother, and it was to Russians that the 
work was entrusted. 

The first earth was dug and the first stone 
was laid May 19th, 1891, at Vladivostok, by 
Nicholas II., when he was Tsarewitch. The oc- 
casion is still spoken of. 

It happened once that a Russian asked me how 
to spell " fool " with five matches. The riddle 

105 



106 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



had to be given up. Slowly he went to the door 
and looked up and down the corridor. Then re- 
turning, he did not venture to say the words, 
even in English. He wrote H II, H being the 
Russian symbol for N. As if he had not already 
taken precautions enough, he rubbed it out and 
wrote " Good day 99 over the space, rubbing that 
out in its turn. So one safeguards a joke. 

The different divisions of the railroad were 
ordered to be finished at certain dates. It was 
only the section about Lake Baikal that was per- 
mitted to take its own time. Across the Siberian 
wilderness, there were no obstacles to be met, 
until the Urals. The rapidity of the construc- 
tion of the road as far as Baikal is not paralleled 
in railroad making. An engineer of world-wide 
fame was on the train going out, and he labor- 
iously called our attention to every detail. 

" We couldn't have beaten it : 2,503 miles of 
railroad was laid and in use within seven years. 
But then — look at the rails. They are light, too 
light. After a spring rain, the trains run off 
the track like squirrels. " 

That may be in the early spring and in the 
Urals, but we saw nothing of it. The rails were 



Russian State Train 




Lake Baikal 



THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY 107 



largely replaced by heavier ones eight years ago, 
the old rails being used for sidings, large numbers 
of which are necessary, on account of the freight 
trains. Yet even the present rails are light, and 
the ballasting of the track is not up to the stand- 
ard, resulting in uneven running of the coaches. 
One night, between Kurgan and Ob, I thought I 
should roll out of my berth. 

Our engineer friend always spoke of the Trans- 
Siberian railway as " the track of the camel," 
because it passes through so few towns. The 
caravan driver loves the lone spaces and some- 
times, with reason, he fears the town. 

It is astonishing how little available informa- 
tion there is to be gathered concerning this road. 
The German, French and English libraries 
possess many books about it, but the reading of 
them presupposes some leisure, and a certain 
nearness to the libraries. In the London book- 
shops we found just two English books, and in 
the Paris shops we found none. This would 
seem to indicate that the interest was slight, — 
still, in London, on the first of September, the 
reservations on the International train were all 
taken until the first of November. 



108 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



In the Wagon-lits office, where we were trying 
to engage an extra place for a friend, they spoke 
of the Eussian State Express as practically out 
of the question for us. Unless one demands 
great luxury, the Eussian State expresses, two 
west and two east each week, are exactly as com- 
fortable as the International train. They pass 
over the same road. The Eussian State makes 
a few more stops, but the running time from 
Irkutsk to Moscow and Petersburg only exceeds 
the time of the International by four or five 
hours. In the fall of 1912, the Compagnie 
Generale de Wagon-lits was advertised as hav- 
ing been given charge of the Eussian State trains, 
as well as its own ; so from now on there should 
be little difference between them. 

On this road there are four classes. The first 
class fare on the Eussian State is approximately 
the same as the second class on the International, 
but the International train is usually booked 
well in advance. One car of the International 
Company is attached to the Eussian State Ex- 
press. 

The International train — one from Peters- 
burg and one from Moscow — is composed of four 



THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY 109 



coaches, a restaurant car, a service car and a 
long baggage car. The engines are heavy; they 
are variously recorded as from eighty-five to 
ninety tons. These trains carry first and second 
class passengers, and are generally full. 

The Russian State Express runs one train a 
week, east and west, between Petersburg and 
Kharbine, and one between Moscow and Khar- 
bine. The cars are smaller, and there are often 
as many as seven passenger coaches, besides the 
restaurant and the baggage car. They carry 
only first and second class. 

The Siberian Express is a daily train, carry- 
ing second, third and fourth class passengers. It 
is a slow train. We never saw it moving. It 
was always on a siding or at a station, forever 
waiting for somebody or something. 

In the fourth class, the compartments are very 
small, and the bunks consist only of boards, on 
which bedding, a private possession, is piled. 
The shelf is filled with cooking utensils, and you 
have only to look in at the window of a fourth 
class coach to see an interesting array of bread, 
teapot, cheese, tea caddy, and a lemon or two, 
mixed with bedding and wraps. The bunks are 



110 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



never made up. I am not sure that the shelves 
have hinges. We went into only one fourth class 
carriage. The aisle in all Siberian trains is 
narrow, but this was only a foothold. And the 
odor ! It can not be described. 

The first class carriages are painted blue; the 
second, yellow ; and the third class, green. They 
don't waste much paint on the fourth class. The 
gauge of the Trans-Siberian track is five feet. 
The Japanese line has a gauge of three feet and 
six inches. 

The trains have a habit of arriving at stations 
by twos and threes. There is but one platform ; 
so. if your train is the third one, you jump to 
the ground and find yourself in a narrow 
passage, in which passengers, luggage and stray 
dogs are commingled. If you still wish to reach 
the station, you climb over the rest of the inter- 
vening trains. It is needless to say that suffi- 
cient time should be allowed for the return 
climb. 

The lower the class of the carriage, the higher 
the steps. Xo distinction of sex is made, and 
men and women are herded together in the fourth 
class, and sometimes in the third. In the vicinity 



THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY 111 



of Kharbine, where there were many travelling 
Chinamen, there was a disposition to put 
Russians by themselves. 

The Russians' hold upon music extends to 
their great railroad, and each restaurant car con- 
tains a piano. Another luxury that the Russian 
State and International trains offer is a bath, 
placed at the end of the train, in the baggage 
car. There is some sediment in these baths, but 
they're wet — and the towels are as generous as 
the distance to the baggage car is long. 

We had been told that on the Russian trains 
there is not any linen. No libel could be baser. 
The sheets are changed punctually twice a week 
on both trains. As they are folded in the berth, 
when it is put up for the day, one is sure of 
sleeping in the same sheets. Towels are changed. 
If the porter's! attention is called to the matter, 
they are changed every day. 

In the early days of the railroad, water was 
scarce, and the supply in the toilet rooms some- 
times gave out. Now it strikes you that wood 
and water can never be lacking, since they are 
taken on so often. 

We were told that there were trains of the 



112 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



fifth class. We passed one at Ufa. It was 
drawn up on a siding, just freight cars filled with 
soldiers — another version of the inscription on 
every vitesse in France, " Men 40. Horses 8." 
The wrath that welled up within me when I first 
saw that sign remains in my memory now. 

The train at Ufa was full of soldiers. It was 
morning, and they were taking turns at a wash. 
A soldier drew in as much water as his mouth 
could hold ; then he trickled it out over his hands, 
and finished with a final spurt for his face. This 
acrobatic feat is accomplished by means of the 
tongue, and is perilous for all but the initiated. 
A thorough rubbing followed, and, as a finishing 
touch, a swipe of the coatsleeve ; and the morning 
toilet was completed. The performer retired to 
his corner of the freight car, while the door space 
was occupied by the next washer. 

No train can leave a station until a queer, 
coiled metal rod, which is called " the wand," is 
given to the engineer. He must deliver the wand 
on arrival at the next stop. 

The third class carriages were filled with stu- 
dents and peasants. The women carried the 
largest bundles; and the travelling Russian 



THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY 113 



world looked happier than that which we saw at 
the stations. They take a little journey as 
though they would have a spree. Travelling 
third class costs only about twenty-five cents for 
a hundred miles. 

The children carried the tea-kettles. It was 
only a lonely man who tied his kettle to his 
bundle, and pushed until the queer-shaped lug- 
gage went through the door. Except for the fact 
that they probably have neither sheets nor pil- 
low-cases, one would be ready to swear that those 
articles form the sole travelling-bags of the peas- 
ants. 

Military travellers are allowed to occupy a 
class higher than they pay for. On the train 
going out were a tall, bow-legged officer and his 
pretty wife, with a baby and a nurse. The offi- 
cer and his wife were in the first class, the baby 
and the nurse in the second class. The man 
possessed a tremendous mustache, and for one 
hour every morning he sat in the end of our car, 
with his mustache in a steel curler. Most of us 
walked past him ; it was the first implement of 
the kind I had seen. He did not mind our at- 
tention in the least — he really liked it. At the 



114 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



larger stations, people came to greet hini, to ad- 
mire his mustache, and to kiss the hand of his 
wife. 

Just as there is a rule for salutations, there 
is a fixed date for most things in Siberia. For 
instance, the outer windows of the trains are 
screwed down on the fifteenth of October. After 
that, the only air that can creep in must enter by 
way of the corridor. 

In the minds of many Siberian travellers, there 
must lurk the memory of the marching bands of 
convicts, described by Tolstoi in " Resurrection." 
They no longer march, they go in trains — con- 
vict trains. We saw two of them. They were com- 
posed of freight-cars, with one or two tiny iron- 
barred windows in each car. Soldiers guarded 
all doors, and there were soldiers drawn up along 
the platform. Escaping would not be easy. 

We met one train in the early evening. The 
small windows were filled with heads. Mashed 
against, the iron bars was a man's face, that 
riveted the attention. It was very pale, with 
staring dark eyes and a thin, close-shut mouth, — 
the most hopeless human countenance I have ever 
seen. 



CHAPTER XII 



BAIKAL 

THE fare on the International from Moscow 
to Shanghai, by way of Kharbine, is £44, 
8s, first class, or £32, 4s second class. Three 
meals a day in the dining car cost three and a 
half rubles, about $1.75; or if one has a con- 
tinental breakfast of coffee and rolls, it is thirty 
kopeks, and dinner at night is two and a half 
rubles. The fare on the Russian State from 
Moscow to Shanghai is £30, first class, or 
£20, second class. 

The past summer, the Minister of Ways and 
Communications hoped to reduce the time from 
Moscow to Vladivostok to eight days and seven- 
teen hours ; but our train took ten days. The 
ultimate aim is to have a six-day train from 
Vladivostok to Petersburg. The wireless, which 
is being installed between Petersburg and Khar- 
bine, will be of much use to the railroad. 

The tourist who starts from London or Paris 

115 



116 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



is apt to reach Moscow by way of Berlin and 
Warsaw. This means passing the frontier at 
Alexandrovo in the night, which is not conven- 
ient. There is nothing, however, to be feared. 
Everyone goes into the large station, and the 
passports are taken. After this, the doors are 
locked, while the officers ascertain whether yon 
are a fit person to enter Eussia. This proceed- 
ing is not rapid, and a fair share of the time is 
consumed in having one's luggage examined. 
The Eussian duties exceed ours, but they are 
fairly lenient to the traveller who is merely pass- 
ing through the country. 

The giving back of the passports is a scene 
full of interest, especially if you have been so 
fortunate as to come by one of the slower trains 
and there are peasants aboard. The giving up 
of the precious document even for a half-hour 
fills their souls with fear. Among the peasants, 
the wife is included in the husband's passport. 
Nowhere in Eussia can a wife obtain a passport 
without her husband's permission. I came to 
regard my passport as one regards a check for 
baggage. If the passport was presented, I must 



BAIKAL 



117 



be forthcoming, because the government was re- 
sponsible. 

A rush of joyful pride welled up in my heart 
whenever I was ordered to show my passport. 
The United States wisely chooses a large sheet 
of foolscap for its foreign documents, and clinches 
the substance of the same by a big, powerful seal. 
The passports of the other countries are smaller. 

At Alexandrovo, an official stands in the center 
of the room and calls out the names. He goes 
down the list swiftly, with an evident goal in 
the bottom of the page. The peasants push and 
struggle to reach him as soon as they hear their 
names, — and woe to any impeding obstacle! 
When it comes to foreigners, the agent whom we 
encountered spoke all languages impartially, and 
we should never have recognized our names if a 
kind Bussian count had not stood by to assist. 

Granted that you do not care to be hustled 
about by your fellow-man, then there is the Nord 
Express from Berlin to Moscow, connecting with 
the International train, and leaving no minutes 
for observation. We learned too late of a 
pleasant line of Finnish steamers that run be- 



118 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



tween Stockholm and St. Petersburg, and which 
are said to be very interesting and incidentally 
both clean and cheap. One can also go by the 
Hook of Holland. 

The Trans-Siberian trains leave Moscow from 
the Koursk station, a palatial sort of edifice, 
which looks like a hotel. It is far from the cen- 
ter of the town, and an extra hour should be 
allowed for reaching it, besides the time neces- 
sary to check luggage. The official in charge of 
the uptown office in Moscow is an efficient gentle- 
man, speaking fluent English. As has been said, 
tickets must be secured well in advance. 

Time was when the departure of this train was 
a recognized event in Russian life. Russians are 
akin to the rest of the world, and the importance 
of the event has dwindled. There was a goodly 
crowd when we left. The train leaves at eight, 
but at half past seven the platform was thronged. 
My ward and I had found our place and were 
packing up our bags, when a flood of Hungarian 
burst upon our ears. The porter, (who is called 
the conductor) , touched the chef -de-train's sleeve. 
Behind him stood a plump, blonde girl and a 
young man. They all talked. The young man 



BAIKAL 



119 



flew from one end of the car to the other. He 
ruffled his hair and clawed at his mustache. The 
chef spread out both hands, invoking heaven, and 
the blonde girl began to cry. 

Then the conductor dashed into our compart- 
ment and shouted to his chief. The whole party 
invaded our compartment and, with a sigh of 
contentment, the blonde girl dropped a hand bag 
upon the long-lost berth. Then she went out, to 
walk up and down the platform with the mus- 
tached man. He held her arm and bent over her 
until his head obscured her face. The five-min- 
ute bell rang. They stopped. He took both her 
hands and talked to her in a low voice. She 
cried now — perhaps because a place had been 
found for her on the train. 

The last three minutes of the stay were given 
up to kissing. Men even kissed men, in the 
Eussian way. The mustached man kissed and 
kissed the girl. She stood on the steps and 
waved her wet handkerchief until the station 
was but a blur in the distance. Then she came 
into the compartment and threw herself down in 
the corner. 

Later, she told us her story. She had been en- 



120 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



gaged to a young German, who lived in Kobe. 
He could not leave his business to come so far. 
Her father, being rich, had procured a dispensa- 
tion from the Catholic Church, since there was 
no priest at Kobe, and she had been married by 
proxy at Prague. In the ceremony, the bride- 
groom had been represented by his brother, and 
the brother had accompanied her as far as Mos- 
cow. 

She was very sad. Judging from appearances, 
marriage by proxy was not a success. For the 
first three days, the bride sent postal cards to 
the brother at every stop. She sang bits from 
the operas and studied English. She would say 
" Darling " over and over. 

" 6 Dahlin ' — c'est un mot charmant," she said. 

There was a house in Kobe waiting for her, and 
she must speak English to the boy, " qui faisait le 
menage." She described her husband and after 
some searching found his photograph. From 
that moment, she sent postals to him, instead of 
the brother. If she had but known, it was a 
waste of ink. Russian mail is unbelievably 
slow. 

We had read of the lounge and the observation 



BAIKAL 



121 



car on the International. There used to be 
something of this description, but the large glass 
windows were broken frequently, and now the 
observation car has disappeared. There is a 
small library of two or three shelves of Russian, 
French, English and German books and five or 
six periodicals, which are kept in the dining car. 
On some trains there are chess and checkers. 
The dining car is really the lounge of the train. 
The tables accommodate two or four; and a place 
having been assigned you at the beginning of the 
journey, you usually keep it for the rest of the 
time, except for breakfast, which may be taken 
quite where one pleases. 

The whole way across the continent, a log hut 
marks each verst of the road. It is the duty of 
the occupant to hold a green flag as the train ap- 
proaches, to show that the line is clear. Almost 
invariably, it was a woman who saluted the train ; 
and once we had passed, she faced in the opposite 
direction for a minute, and then disappeared. 
The green flag is furled tightly, and its Car- 
cassonne must be the dream of flapping out in 
the crisp air. At night, a bundled figure holds a 
green lantern in front of these houses. Many 



122 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



times, from the rear of the train, I have seen a 
young girl stand listlessly, to wave us on our 
safe way, and then stand and stand, gazing at 
the flying train, — which did not stop, which 
hurried on to opportunity and gayety and life — 
and passed her by. With the irony of fate, I'd 
toss some bonbons or a magazine out to her. As 
she stooped to pick them up, we were too far away 
to see the longing in her eyes. There is a worn 
path by the side of the track, kept well footed by 
the station-house tender, who has to be answer- 
able for his verst of road. 

A man in railroad uniform sits on the end 
platform of all trains, and watches — for what? 

The utter loneliness of the employees grows 
upon you. The railroad company has been gen- 
erous in establishing schools and exercising 
grounds and churches at its larger stations ; but 
there are whole days when one sees only small 
stations and never a town. If the railroad passes 
through a village, the station is often miles away, 
— as at Petropalovsk, for instance. It was ex- 
plained that the original purpose of the road was 
twofold, — as a military asset in transporting 
soldiers, and as an encouragement to settlers, by 



BAIKAL 



123 



enabling them to reach uninhabited country. 
Goodness knows, there is still plenty of country 
left. Such loneliness is oppressive, even to see. 

Recent consular reports confirm what I heard 
in Siberia, that the Russian government contem- 
plates the improvement of this road by a branch 
from Omsk to Petersburg, by a branch south from 
Taiga and by the line to Pekin. When these ex- 
tensions are made, the Russians will have spent 
over one billion dollars on the Siberian Railway. 
Offsetting that, they will possess a complete, 
double track system from the Urals to the Pacific, 
with double approaches, the whole measuring 
6,844 miles in length. Of the Petersburg section, 
the line from Perm to Ekaterinburg is already 
finished. The double tracking was begun in 
1907. It is calculated that the entire system 
will be completed in 1915. The Amur branch of 
the railroad is being pushed on account of the 
great fair, to be held in that section in this year. 

In the first years of its running, the railroad 
stopped at Lake Baikal, — the " Holy Sea," as 
the Russians call it. The year of the war came, 
and the government needed to rush troops 
through. The ice seemed thick enough to warrant 



124 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



the laving of rails over the lake. This was done, 
and a train filled with soldiers started across. 
They had gone half way, when the weight proved 
too much for the ice, and two companies were 
wiped out of existence. 

The famous ice-breaking steamer " Baikal " 
was built by an English firm, and for a number of 
years passengers on leaving the train were trans- 
ported slowly across this great lake in the 
steamer. We heard hair-raising tales of how 
the gigantic ship would be pushed straight into 
the thick blocks of impeding ice, and mounting 
on them tear them asunder by the sheer force of 
her weight. Those days come not back, except 
when there is a washout on the track. Now the 
train skirts the border of the lake. The displaced 
steamer was moored in the distance, an inoffen- 
sive object, 

Baikal is a name to conjure with in Siberia. 
Each inch of the shore has its bit of legend. The 
capes are named for fishes or animals. At the 
point where the Angara Biver flows out, there is 
a submerged cliff, which is considered both by 
the Shamans and by the Lamas to be the habita- 
tion of the invincible White God. The Buriats 



BAIKAL 125 

and Zamas believe that the Spirit of Evil lives 
on the island of Olkhon. Sacrifices are offered 
in both places, — there's nothing like being 
sure. 

The precipitous cliffs which rise at intervals 
along the borders of the lake have queer outlines. 
Two of them look exactly like a human face in 
profile. 

The unsteady waters make a storm especially 
feared. The waves easily reach a height of 
twelve feet. The lake contains a peculiar variety 
of seal, which is said to be related to the Phoca 
annulata. Of late years these seals have not 
been so plentiful, and the government is trying 
to establish a close season. 

Going out, we had passed Lake Baikal in the 
daytime. The low September sun glinted across 
the water; the shores were ablaze with crimson 
and yellow. It sometimes seems as if Nature 
carried the law of compensation into the realm of 
beauty. Where the winter is coldest, Nature 
lavishes her care upon the fall. Whatever snow 
may come to blot out the landscape, the remem- 
bering eye has but to look back and the colors of 
the gleaming autumn are there again. There is 



126 ACKOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



not a bare bough on the wide horizon, — just 
color, color, everywhere. 

It was very beautiful. The grass which keeps 
the living green of the summer longest was turn- 
ing brown in places. Here and there were patches 
of red along the ground. The mountains on the 
other side of Lake Baikal w^ere covered with 
snow in September, and at evening, when the red 
sun slid into the water, the white mountain tops 
were flushed with pain, because it was the end of 
the day, and winter was just around the corner. 

At the eastern end of the lake, the railroad 
winds through about 81 tunnels. It seems as if 
the circuitous route taken were quite unneces- 
sary, considering the grade, which is not steep. 

With the exception of our own Great Lakes 
and Victoria Nyanza in Africa, Baikal is the 
largest body of fresh water in the world. It is 
as long as England, and in some places the water 
is over a mile deep. Lake Baikal is a part of the 
vast system of inland navigation which honey- 
combs Siberia. The extent of inland waterways 
is over 15,000 miles, which should be most favor- 
able to the commercial development of the coun- 
try. 



BAIKAL 



127 



Is there something that I should have put down 
— something that you, coming after, may wish 
to know? As I think back, the list of questions 
we would have asked was long, and there were 
so many of them unanswered when we had con- 
sulted the few available books. 

The Trans-Siberian railroad, either the Inter- 
national train or the Russian State Express, is 
comfortable and pleasant. The time of year adds 
to or subtracts from one's happiness. June and 
September are supposed to be the best months. 
And if you fall on another? That may be best 
for you. 



CHAPTER XIII 

A SIBERIAN COUNTESS 

SNOW brings an opaque sensation of its own. 
I was dimly conscious of that feeling before 
I was thoroughly awake. How dark it was! 
The central light of the compartment is not put 
out on the Russian State ; it burns tranquilly on 
through the night. The management furnishes 
a hood, in two sections, which draws over the 
globe, if the passengers agree. I had agreed with 
myself that the hood should be drawn. I stood 
on the edge of the seat and pushed the two sides 
of the hood together. They naturally sprang 
apart, and that little chink of electric light did 
its best to keep me awake. Though the outcome 
was dubious for a while, it was unsuccessful in 
the end. 

The light had been turned out now, and the 
snow, piling up against the window, kept out 
the day. My watch said nine o'clock. Time on 
the Trans-Siberian is a joke. In the dining car 

128 



A SIBERIAN COUNTESS 129 



are two clocks, one of which is kept according 
to St. Petersburg time, the other according to 
local time. The timetable follows Petersburg 
time; and as for the poor passengers they take 
their choice, which is wide, for there is a varying 
difference of from one to seven hours. 

This train was decidedly smaller than the In- 
ternational. One welcome change was that, al- 
though I was still travelling second class, there 
was a basin with running water in my compart- 
ment. Another pleasure was in finding a good- 
sized mirror in the door, while on the other train 
the mirror had been a little affair, perched high, 
so that when the beds were made it was available 
only for the person who had the upper berth. 
The sheets were spotless, and the train was very 
clean. 

Stepping into the dining car was a pleasant 
passing from the icy corridor. The warm place 
gave one such a sense of security from the blind- 
ing storm outside. The snow fell in slanting 
lines against the window. 

This was the country of Jermak. He had lived 
" on the royal road of the Volga," and history 
has it that he lived well. When the day of 



130 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



reckoning came, and the Czar's soldiers lined up 
against the outlaws, Jermak so won the admira- 
tion of his enemies that his life was spared and 
he was taken to Petersburg. Ivan the Terrible 
and Jermak looked each other in the eye, and 
knew that they were comrades. Jermak was 
made the head of a band of Russians, Tartars, 
Cossacks and Poles, who crossed the Urals and 
captured Siberia. Ivan was so pleased with his 
new possession that he gave Jermak a cuirass of 
exquisite workmanship. Armed with the royal 
gift, Jermak again entered Siberia. His troops 
were attacked near Irkutsk, and, in trying to 
swim the Irtysh, he was weighed down by his 
cuirass and drowned. Time passed, — much was 
added, much forgotten, — and Jermak was made 
a saint by the Orthodox Church. Doubtless he 
deserved it more than the rest of us. Wayfaring 
in this country requires a steady pulse and a 
clear head. 

Oh! This Russian language! I had ordered 
my breakfast in Russian for a month, and here I 
was in difficulties again. 

" Preenesee'te yeshcho' sleef kee." 

The " sleef kee " meant cream. Long ago it 



A SIBERIAN COUNTESS 131 



had been established that sweet cream was out of 
the question. It was possible to have slightly 
turned whipped cream for coffee; and although 
it is an acquired taste, once mastered it has a 
wholly individual charm. 

There was a woman in the dining car, a fine- 
faced, gray-haired woman, sitting rather near. 
Either German or Russian, evidently. She was 
plump; looking at her again, it seemed certain 
that she was Russian. She came to my assist- 
ance. We conversed in French. She lived in 
Irkutsk and was taking her daughter away to be 
finished. The daughter was " tellement gaie," 
that " elle plaisait k tous." At the moment she 
was talking to the world in another car. She 
was not sorry to be going away. Irkutsk was 
not bad, but in winter the cold was 50 degrees 
below zero. The snow never melted. Besides, 
it was too gay for a young girl. There was so 
much drinking. Chaperons? Oh, no! Siberia 
was very free. Young girls went alone with 
officers to the Club? Yes. You couldn't keep 
a young girl of eighteen from having some pleas- 
ure. The only way was to take her out of Ir- 
kutsk before Irkutsk could harm her. Yes, there 



132 



ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



were dances. Her daughter never went. She 
could not let her. There were very good schools 
in Irkutsk. Everybody, nearly everybody, went 
to school; not the peasants, of course. Girls 
were not married young. Many were not mar- 
ried at all. The young men did not want to 
assume new responsibilities. Oh, no! A girl 
stood small chance of marrying in Irkutsk. 

My breath came in gasps. Was Madame de- 
scribing America or Siberia? 

Later I met the daughter. She was a sweet, 
unspoiled girl. An Englishman from Japan and 
a German baron were her devoted slaves. At a 
station, it was close work to see which would 
walk with her. They would neither of them 
share. 

The steps of the Bussian trains are high. If 
one helped her down the other was waiting on 
the platform to walk with her. 

The Irkutsk friends had sent them fruit and 
bonbons, and the young men were regaled in 
turn. The mother took no interest in the pro- 
ceedings. That evening she sat in my compart- 
ment until eleven oclock. The girl got out at a 
station and had a snowball fight with her two 



A SIBERIAN COUNTESS 133 



cavaliers; then sat talking to them in her com- 
partment until her mother's return. The porter 
had made up the beds while we were at dinner, 
but neither the girl nor her mother seemed to 
mind that. 

We played bridge the next day, the German 
taking it rather seriously, the girl not knowing 
how. They told me many tales about being 
snowed in along the line. 

" If you stop, you won't get away until spring," 
the German baron said. 

Meanwhile, the train lumbered on, across the 
bridge over the Oka, which is 1,560 feet long, — 
over the Birjussa to Krasnoyarsk. It's worth 
travelling to Russia just to hear a native pro- 
nounce that word. Krasnoyarsk is a typical 
Siberian city, with pretentious buildings crowd- 
ing log cabins and many-towered churches ev- 
erywhere. It is the capital of the province of 
Yeniseisk and is situated on the banks of the 
Yenisei River, the largest river of Asia. As we 
crossed the bridge over the river, the world 
looked mystical and fairy-like. The snow had 
ceased falling. The steep, snow-covered banks 
of the river were gray- white, the river itself was 



134 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



a gray-green, and the huddled city beyond was 
of the same quiet tone. 

However, Krasnoyarsk is not considered quiet. 
It is the radiating point for much commerce. 

The Irkutsk countess persisted in advising 
me to stick to the train. I disliked the idea of 
parting from the jolly group, and, besides, I 
wanted to see which man would win. They 
were most concerned about the game of bridge. 
Five days more on the train, and no bridge! 
We entered into a contract that if there was no 
one to meet me at the station at Taiga, I was 
not to stop. I subscribed to this contract will- 
ingly enough, for I felt sure that the President 
of the University would be there. 

We played until the Taiga station bell rang. 
Such an ado as there was, to hustle into our 
wraps and corral my luggage. The luggage was 
under a ban. They would not allow the porter 
to carry it off until they had seen the President 
with their own eyes. Outside, it was snowing 
again. Very few people were getting off. We 
no sooner reached the platform than the coun- 
tess was for going back. I looked everywhere, 
but could see no one whom I knew. 



A SIBEKIAN COUNTESS 135 



" Back we go. Back we go." The German 
baron stood at the steps to help us in. 

With a twenty minutes' wait, I didn't propose 
to give up so easily. We'd look again. Sure 
enough, through the snowflakes came the hurry- 
ing figure of the President, six feet three and 
weighing about 200 pounds. It did my heart 
good to see a face that I had seen before and 
which I could trust. There was a great shak- 
ing of hands and speaking of various languages 
as the President was presented to the others. 

The Irkutsk countess had given me letters to 
some people whom she knew at Tomsk, and she 
and the President were talking the matter over. 
The baron and the Englishman were snowball- 
ing each other, using the bulky figures of the 
President and the countess as a screen. The 
President stepped to one side to get in the lee 
of the storm. 

Whizz! One of the Englishman's snowballs 
hit the President squarely in the back of the 
neck. Cap off, the Englishman begged for par- 
don and shook what snow he could from his 
victim. 

Three bells! The men boosted the countess 



136 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



on — the rest jumped aboard — and the train 
was off. 

Is there anything more consoling than a 
friend? It was peaceful happiness to be beside 
the President. 



CHAPTER XIV 



HOME LIFE 

TOMSK is one of the many examples of 
towns through which the Trans-Siberian 
railroad does not pass. It is situated just sixty 
miles to the north and is reached by a branch 
line. The traveller changes cars at Taiga. We 
walked up the white steps to the elaborate sta- 
tion. It was built in a wilderness of forest, but 
the mighty magnet of the rails has brought a 
village to cluster about the station. The clean- 
paved floor of the corridor was white, even in 
this storm. All stations have icons. This one 
had a real altar, opposite the news-stand. Or- 
dinarily, the icon is in one end of the waiting- 
room or restaurant, and the bar at the other end. 
It is a convenient location. The entering Rus- 
sian crosses himself — then proceeds to consume 
vodka. 

We were drinking that other Russian liquid, 
tea, and tasting the large, dark-colored maca- 

137 



138 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



roons, which are delicious. The President 
wanted to hear all about the wedding and my 
journey. We had an hour to wait. The storm 
was shut out by the electric lights of the sta- 
tion. The long talk seemed almost home-like. 
The feeling of being alone dropped from me like 
a garment. 

" You'll be astonished at this train," the Pres- 
ident said. " It's a branch road and it isn't like 
the International." 

On account of the insistence of my host, I was 
trying to walk in his rubbers. Going down the 
steps and making connection with the rubbers 
couldn't be done on the same trip. The reluc- 
tant President carried the rubbers, and we 
reached the toy train. It had not bothered to 
back up to the station, — which is a characteris- 
tic of Russian trains. For a person of my 
height, the only feasible way of mounting the 
exceedingly high steps was a running jump or 
putting my knee up. The dim light in the tiny 
compartment came from a candle enclosed in a 
lantern; and there was a curtain, which could 
shut off even that, for the travelling Russian is 
really interested in but two things, sleeping and 



HOME LIFE 



139 



eating. Both the Express and this train had 
wooden storm guards for the windows, much 
like the cinder guards of our Pullmans. In 
spite of this, the storm and hail beat against the 
window. 

We would creep up to a station and stay 
there for a while, — then creep on. To show 
that nations have the same customs, the con- 
ductor came to look at our tickets three times 
during the trip. 

Afterwards, it developed that it took two hours 
for the journey. We had so much to say that 
we were not aware for some time of an insistent 
noise — a queer, penetrating burr-r, like the 
roar of Shere Khan. The President was no- 
ticing it. We were in the first class, and the 
Irkutsk countess had told me that on the smaller 
trains one usually travelled second class, be- 
cause it was considered safer. " Buzz-z — 
whirr-r ! " The President went into the corri- 
dor to see what the disturbance was. He 
beckoned me to come. A brakeman of some six 
feet was doubled up on a corridor seat. His 
legs projected toward the middle of the car and 
his arms filled most of the side space, so that 



140 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



his head was forced down upon his breast. He 
slept and snored from Taiga to Tomsk. 

There were many droshkies outside the Tomsk 
station. They made no importunities. It was 
the President who went down the steps and se- 
lected two, putting me in one and himself and 
the luggage in the other. We started off at a 
good pace. The ground was white; the laden 
branches of the trees took queer shapes in the 
distance. The road rose and fell in unequal 
intervals, and I rolled from one side of my 
droshky to the other. I grabbed my muff and 
my umbrella in my left hand and held on to the 
wagon with my right. How we did go! Once 
we struck off across a field, where there was no 
road. The light snow made all the world seem 
like a meadow. Another droshky passed so near 
that we dug one wheel into the ditch at the side 
of the road, while I balanced on the step and 
stuck my head out over the side, hoping that the 
fur on my hat might be the fraction needed to 
keep us from going over. When we had righted 
again, and I had taken stock of my possessions, 
the izvostchik was whipping his horse mightily. 
I rose to my feet to interfere. A sudden lurch 



HOME LIFE 



141 



set me down forcefully. I stayed there. This 
Siberian trip wasn't to reform the cabmen; be- 
sides, we might lose sight of the President's 
droshky, — we might tip over in the snow and 
not be found. With a shudder I concluded that 
the poor horse must stand the beating. 

We drew up at a large white building. There 
were children standing about the door. In a 
twinkling, they had my luggage, and we were 
mounting the cement stairs to an apartment on 
the first floor. The door was opened by a little 
maid in a large apron, who ushered us into the 
long, narrow hall, with rooms opening off each 
side. Madame Presidente bustled up and 
gathered me into her motherly arms. I shook 
hands with the five children, strong, fine-faced 
youngsters. 

At last here was a real home, a place where 
there were children. Madame hurried off to 
see about supper. The children and I entered 
the salon, a beautiful, big room, very simply 
furnished. A grand piano was at the far end. 
The other furniture consisted of a bent-wood 
chair and seven or eight dining-room chairs and 
a table. The floor was waxed. The walls were 



142 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



white, and a white porcelain stove projected 
from the wall in a semicircle. There were rub- 
ber-plants near the windows. 

In this house the general custom had been 
followed, of putting a little glass of ammonia 
between the inner and outer windows, to pre- 
vent the formation of vapor on the glass. There 
was an icon in the corner. Every room has an 
icon in the " front corner," as the Russians 
call the corner that faces the sun. This icon is 
the sign of delegated authority. The one in the 
church represents God ; the one in the house rep- 
resents the one in the church. In the strictly 
orthodox home, a lamp or a taper burns before 
the icon. That, together with many another 
quaint custom, is dying out. The children led 
me to the rocking chair. Still looking at them, 
I sat down and unexpectedly rocked far back- 
wards. My nerves must have suffered from that 
drive, for, sure that I was going over, I grabbed 
two of the children, — to their great amusement. 
We all burst out laughing, and the real intro- 
duction had been made. 

I got out my inseparable companion, the green 
book, and we picked out sentences, — they speak- 



HOME LIFE 



143 



ing Russian and I English. We said, " How do 
you do?" and shook hands; and " Good-by " — 
and waved; and altogether we were very merry. 

Madame was at the door. 

" Je vous en prie, Madame, une tasse de the." 

The dining-room was rather a long room, con- 
taining a stove, a sewing table, the long, narrow 
dining table, and a serving table. So far as I 
could judge, in Siberia the table is set for two or 
three more persons than one expects. This table 
was long enough for twenty persons, and we were 
but eight. The samovar was on a little stand at 
the hostess' left. We had bread and butter, 
cheese, stewed beef and potatoes, confiture and 
very good tea. The Russians, both children and 
grown-ups, do drink tremendous quantities of tea. 

The children had a hundred questions to ask. 
Their bright, eager faces were full of curiosity 
at seeing their first American. The meal went 
merrily along. Leo asked what time American 
children went to bed. I told them eight o'clock. 

" Voila ! " Madame said. " You should have 
been in bed an hour ago." And she shooed 
them off. 

Siberian women seem to have a special man- 



144 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



ner of speaking French. When they wish to 
offer you a cup of tea, or a bonbon, they say, 
" Puis-je vous presenter?" They also use 
" masse de 99 for " beaucoup de." However, they 
speak good French except for a certain harsh- 
ness of accent. English is fashionable in Eus- 
sia at present, and the young people are being 
taught that language in preference to all others. 
First and last, I met many who spoke English, 
mostly men, however. 

After an hour in the drawing-roora, Madame 
asked me if I would have a bath. I was ready 
for anything. The Eussians, throughout the 
country, have a little, separate log house, conse- 
crated to the bath. They touch water seldom, 
but when they do, they're thorough. There is 
a pile of huge stones in the center of the hut. 
A fire is built in the middle of the pile. Water 
is heated and the person is washed. Then cold 
water is dashed over the heated stones, until 
the place is filled with steam. If the bather is 
not yet satisfied, he climbs upon some bars, placed 
directly over the stones. The steam rises in 
great volumes and the bather has a taste of pur- 
gatory. An attendant accompanies each bath 



HOME LIFE 



145 



and whacks the bather with a cold or hot towel, 
or perhaps uses a birch stick. 

In the remote towns no great distinction is 
made in the bath houses. The peasants bathe 
together, — men and women; for the primitive 
Eussians seem to be entirely without the sense 
of shame, like healthy animals. 

I had heard of these baths, but had not met 
them. 

Madame, accompanied by the four children 
who were still up, and by a maid, led the way 
to a real, regular, bona-fide, modern bathroom. 
The immense zinc tub was connected by pipes 
with an iron stove, exactly as the bathrooms in 
our French chateau are arranged. The children 
retired. Madame and the maid remained. Ma- 
dame put out the warm towels, such nice, big 
ones, and went, wishing me a pleasant bath. 
The maid filled the tub nearly full of warm 
water. I was practically ready for the plunge. 
Still the maid stayed. 

I said, " Blaghahdaryoovas." 

She stood at attention. I smiled and waved 
my hand toward the door. Russians are not 
quick. At last I opened the door and held it, 



146 ACBOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



She took the hint. Madame appeared, to know 
if I wouldn't have Nina rub my back. The bath 
was one to be remembered. 

Back in the good-sized chamber, I crawled 
into the clean bed. The upper sheet was but- 
toned over a down comforter and there was a 
blue lining to the embroidered pillow-case. An 
icon hung over the bed. It was a pleasant room 
in which to fall asleep. 

Breakfast was put on the table in the bright 
copper dishes in which it was cooked. There 
was fruit, oatmeal, tea, chocolate, hot milk, 
bread, butter and cheese, the whole served as one 
course. Bussian melons are a delectable morsel. 
Watermelons are ripe in October but they are 
not as sweet as the oval yellow melons. 

It is a national custom to have meals whenever 
it is convenient. There are no special hours. 
Dinner is at four today and at six tomorrow. 
I'm not sure but that it is as rational a method 
as any. One eats when one is hungry. I fail 
to see, however, how the housekeeper can man- 
age it. 

Madame said there was always tea at ten and 
at four. Beally there was tea all the time, — 



HOME LIFE 



147 



before one went anywhere and as soon as one 
returned. The samovar was always hot. Ma- 
dame allowed me to come into the dining-room 
early one morning, to watch the maid start the 
samovar for the day. It had been cleaned and 
polished. After a final rinse, cold water was 
poured into the space that surrounded the chim- 
ney. Burning charcoal was dropped through 
this funnel into the fire-pot at the base. The 
draft is furnished by means of open metal work 
at the bottom. It takes ten minutes for the 
water to boil; and once started the samovar is 
not allowed to go out for the day. It requires 
very little charcoal. 



CHAPTER XV 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 

' 'rpiHEKE is one thing to be done first," the 
JL President said at breakfast. " You 
must have some rubbers." 

It was a beautiful morning, cold and clear. 
Our droshky sank deep into the mud. What 
streets ! We were passing the University build- 
ings, and I was much impressed by the size of 
this only University in Siberia, — still, nechivo, 
we were out on other business. The droshky 
drew up in a small lake at the edge of the side- 
walk. Plump ! And we were on dry land. 
This was a well-equipped shoe-shop, and I failed 
to see the cause of Madame's long conversation 
with one clerk after another. She turned to 
me. 

" You wear a number three shoe, you see, and 
they're not sure whether they have any as small 
as that." 

" As small as a three? " 

148 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 149 



" In the winter, our women have to wear 
woolen stockings and fur-lined shoes, so, by the 
time it comes to the rubbers, one must have a 
large size," Madame said. 

After some hunting, I was fitted out with a 
pair of heavy, lined goloshes, which made my 
feet feel like lead. 

We were starting on a round of visits to the 
elementary schools for boys and for girls. 
These schools, which are called " public/' require 
a small tuition fee. The work corresponded 
fairly to the work done in the same grades in 
America, The number of subjects covered is 
smaller. 

Madame told me that the mothers were asked 
to interest themselves in the schools. " They 
don't do it much yet," she added. Another 
point of similarity between Siberia and Amer- 
ica. 

The eye was struck by the Siberian type of 
girl; the national traits seemed more pro- 
nounced in the female than in the male. These 
girls were short, with brown hair and gray eyes, 
high cheek bones and colorless skins. Occasion- 
ally, there was a radiant, red-haired maiden, 



150 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



with a milky skin, and I felt as if I must follow 
her from class to class. 

At the new Women's Medical College, which 
has recently been started in a ramshackle old 
building, the girls were wearing artistic reform 
clothes. We arrived at this college at about 
half past ten, and the woman dean had not yet 
come. We met her afterwards, — a stout, keen- 
faced, energetic woman, whose husband is also 
a professor. 

After luncheon, the President took his turn 
at showing the sights of Tomsk to an inquisitive 
stranger. We visited the University library, 
which would do credit to a much older and larger 
institution. The librarian was a bewhiskered 
book enthusiast. Two attendants went about 
with us, and it was a pleasure to see the libra- 
rian take the books from their unholy hands. 
His white fingers guarded the precious folios as 
if they were gold. 

There are now about 4,000 students in all the 
departments of the University, and everywhere 
there is a freshness, an earnest love of work, 
that grows upon you. Students in Russia are 
carefully watched. They are regarded as a hot- 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 151 



bed of political unrest. They also have no envi- 
able reputation for moral poise, — but they work. 
There is no dilettantism in the University of 
Tomsk. 

The Botanical Gardens and Greenhouses were 
last on the afternoon's program. A former pres- 
ident — rector, as they say — of the University 
is at the head of the department of Botany. He 
was a cultivated cosmopolitan, who brought out 
for our inspection the many species of edelweiss 
that he had collected in the Urals the past sum- 
mer. 

It was already six, and Madame had warned 
us to be at home in time for the supper that she 
was giving. She was in the dining-room, pat- 
ting a plate or straightening a knife. 

" Madame, what shall I wear? " 

" The dress you have on," Madame said, com- 
ing towards me. She touched the fur border. 
" It's the latest Paris fashion, isn't it? " 

Why should I make her joys any less by tell- 
ing her that the gown was made in America? 
Nechivo. 

I did change to an afternoon gown, but, as 
Madame said, it was quite unnecessary. Only 



152 



ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



one woman, who had recently moved to Siberia 
from Switzerland, wore anything but a street 
dress. 

There were two maids in the house, a cook and 
a waitress. A professional cook had been hired 
for the day. The mistress laid the table, with 
the help of her sixteen-year-old daughter. The 
three maids darted in and out. The hors 
d'euvres were placed on the table, — ripe olives, 
various vegetable salads, little croquettes and 
every known sort of tinned fish. 

The guests were University people, cultivated, 
quiet, delightful, the same that one would meet 
in any college town in America. 

Supper lasted long. It began with a sort of 
red vodka, which tasted of the cranberries, from 
which it is partly made. There were five or six 
other kinds of wine, placed upon the table in 
tall bottles and duplicated at each end of the 
board. To my surprise, there was little wine 
consumed. I asked my host if the educated peo- 
ple in Siberia didn't drink. 

" Some do and some do not. Mostly, they do," 
he said. " The physicians say it isn't good for 
us.** 



TOMS?: AND ITS UNIVERSITY 153 



That answer was given to so many questions. 
Food hygiene has evidently taken a strong hold 
on the people. 

To return to the menu: there was caviar of 
course, and such delicious caviar! The soup 
was a clear bouillon, with a large piece of boiled 
sterlet in each plate. This is a national dish, 
and is made from a receipt that is handed down 
from mother to daughter. Whenever it is pos- 
sible, the fish must be alive as it is plunged into 
water that is pleasantly warm to the hand. 
Then the ingredients are added, and the soup is 
carefully watched; the scum being stirred in as 
often as it rises. If the scum is skimmed off, 
the soup becomes flavorless. Roasted tetjeroff 
or grouse, with beets and potatoes, came next. 
I have never tasted such game as is served in Si- 
beria, not only in private houses but in hotels 
and on the dining cars. 

As a delicate compliment to the American 
guest, the dessert was ice-cream, — " long may it 
wave in the land of the free and the home of the 
brave." 

Two of the gentlemen at this dinner announced 
that they had dined at four, so they took only 



154 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



dessert. Russian men do not share the English 
disdain of sweets. 

After the dinner, all the company, ladies and 
gentlemen, went into the salon. They taught 
me a most intricate game, somewhat like whist, 
but long and slow. The children went about 
from group to group, gaily but noiselessly. 

Fruit, nuts, cakes and bonbons were brought 
into the salon and placed on a center table. In 
about an hour the hostess asked us to have a cup 
of tea. For this we again went to the dining- 
room, where the table had been reset with wines, 
tea, fruit, bread, cheese, nuts, cakes and bonbons. 
Everyone drank tea, taking it in the Russian 
way, in glasses, with a slice of lemon. On our 
return to the salon, we stayed there until the end 
of the evening, at twelve o'clock. 

Two of the ladies went home to put their chil- 
dren to bed, one of them returning later. Con- 
trary to what I had noticed at Irkutsk, there 
was the greatest sympathy between husbands 
and wives, a live sort of affection. My pictures 
were brought out and shown to the company. 
It made the cockles of my heart warm, when 
one of the company said : 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 155 



"Are all American children as beautiful as 
this?" 

" Well, now ! " her husband remarked. " I 
like that, " It sounds as if Russian children 
were homely. How about our small boy? " 

It was at this dinner that I was recommended 
to take a trip through Siberia by water. One 
can leave Lake Baikal by way of the Angara 
river, then to the Yenisei and so to the Kass 
river, by canal to the Ket, to the Obi, Irtysh 
and Tobol, until one reaches the Ural mountains. 
The same man who advised this also spoke with 
enthusiasm of a trip from Tomsk. One goes up 
the Tom river to Tiumen, in the Urals; by rail 
to Perm, then by steamer on the Kama river to 
the Volga, and on as far as one chooses. 

When the guests were all deposited in their 
carriages, Madame bolted the outer door. Even 
in the daytime there was a burglar chain on it. 
Like all well regulated households, the family 
had a night watchman. 

" Now/' Madame's hospitable voice said, 
" let's have a cup of tea." 

We were up early, and ready for a tour of 
more schools. First, the President took me 



156 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



through the School of Mining Engineering in 
the School of Technology. The building is a fine 
new one and, like most of the others, contains 
the apartments in which the professors live. 
In the case of scientific work, the President 
said that this was found to be a great conven- 
ience. If the professor wishes to look after any 
research which he is conducting, he has only to 
go from his own apartment into a hall, and im- 
mediately he is in the section devoted to his de- 
partment. 

The Mining lecture rooms are fitted with lan- 
terns and screens, the students sitting as in an 
amphitheater. The private rooms of the pro- 
fessors are very large, a marked contrast to 
those in some American universities. A jani- 
tor has charge of each floor, and a small, bad- 
smelling room is given over to his use. We saw 
one janitor who was making the tea for his 
breakfast. 

There is a good mineralogical library, with a 
preponderance of American books. The models 
of mines, shafts and safety devices for cages 
were interesting. Tomsk is in the midst of min- 
eral wealth. To the south are the Altai moun- 



TOMSK AND ITS TJNIVEKSITY 157 



tains, whose very name means gold. It seems 
to be the general opinion that in comparison with 
Siberia the Transvaal is poor in gold. There is 
much silver also. 

We drove out of town for a distance, through 
such mud and such small rivers as my eyes had 
not seen before. The West has nothing like it. 
The droshky careened about until it could 
bend no farther, then righted itself to take an- 
other plunge. At the end of the tossing and 
rolling was a stretch of gray river, and the dim 
city lying beyond it in a fog. On the way back 
to town we passed the city playground. It was 
opened last year by a fete. 

The director of the Medical School had asked 
us to come at ten o'clock. The waiting room 
had a group of patients huddled in one corner; 
convalescents, evidently. They were wrapped 
in gray flannel and their heads were covered by 
an immaculate white cloth. One woman had 
wound an orange cotton scarf about her throat. 
That bit of color stood out like sunshine in the 
gray room. 

The day had grown stormy; sometimes it 
rained, sometimes it snowed. The depth and the 



158 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



thickness of the inud increased. Winter was 
upon the country. According to one of the mem- 
bers of the Royal Geographical Society, Central 
Siberia is the coldest recorded place in the world. 
Eighty degrees below zero has been registered. 
At Tomsk, 50° below is called cold. In summer, 
the days are very hot, but the nights are cool. 

Two physicians conducted us over the hos- 
pital, the equipment of which was entirely 
modern, but meager. The same antiseptic 
smells, the same immaculateness that reigns in 
all hospitals, were here. The nurses were larger 
and older, and — may I say it? — not so pretty 
as those to whom we are accustomed. 

On our way to the Manual Training School, 
we passed the dome-shaped tomb of Theodore 
Kusmitsek, Tomsk's mythical saint. Men were 
walking past the door, hats off, the rain matting 
their long hair. Years before, a tramp had come 
to Tomsk and had camped outside the town, en- 
tering the streets only to go to church or to do 
some kindly deed. A merchant gave him a hut 
and he lived in it until he died. Gradually the 
people came to believe that the tramp was Alex- 
ander I., who had abdicated the throne because 



j 

TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 159 

he was powerless to carry out his wishes for the 
uplift of the people. Alexander had gone to the 
Crimea for his health, and it was said that he 
died there. Instead, he became a wanderer, as 
every Russian is, at heart. 

In front of the Manual Training School, the 
river that had to be jumped in getting out of the 
droshky was small, and we entered the building 
in high spirits. As usual, our wraps and rubbers 
were checked, and the President sent in his card 
to the principal. One evidently asked for per- 
mission to enter any school. I noticed that the 
President had telephoned in advance to each 
school. 

A recent graduate from St. Petersburg took us 
through the building. We were not permitted 
to enter the class-rooms if a lesson was being 
given. In one room the students were drawing 
designs. I looked in through the glass frames 
of the door. Not an eye was raised. That is 
true study, when a class is so interested in its 
work that even an American woman — American 
women are scarcer than hen's teeth in Siberia — 
does not disturb anyone. 

An interesting item of the curriculum is danc- 



160 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



ing, which is taught to both girls and boys of 
all grades, until they reach the University. 
With such early training, it is not hard to see 
why Russian dancers lead the world. 

In this Manual Training School, as in all 
others that I saw, there was a central corridor, 
which was used by the pupils during the recess. 
An occasional bench ran along the side of the 
corridor. The walls were covered with botanical 
and zoological charts, and an icon clung to the 
ceiling in the " front " corner. 

The Petersburg student led us to his own do- 
main, an agricultural laboratory. They say that 
Russians are not born farmers. The government 
is surely taking the right course when it intro- 
duces agriculture into the secondary schools. 

We had come back to the inevitable racks. 
One's clothes would be half worn out by taking 
them off and putting them on so often. That 
must be one reason why the rubbers are made of 
such wear-resisting thickness. 

We were headed for the People's University, 
at the extreme limit of the city. It isn't my 
afflair, but I wondered why a school whose ses- 
sions were only at night should be so far from 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVEESITY 161 



town. The next wonderment was why I should 
have fancied that it mattered. The kind of peo- 
ple who seek an education at night schools mind 
neither distance nor mud. This school building 
was given by Mr. Makoushin, a bookseller of 
Tomsk. It is spacious and very light. It is the 
only school which contains a large assembly 
room. Altogether, it was so modern in equip- 
ment, so up-to-date in purpose, that my nostrils 
were filled with snow, as I tried to get my breath 
when we were once more out-doors. 

We had been asked to call upon Mr. Makoushin. 
There was time for but one more venture, and 
the question was whether we should call upon 
him or upon the lady to whom the Irkutsk 
countess had given me a letter. The lady had 
said over the telephone that she would be at 
home all day; and now, when we told her that 
the lack of time prevented our coming, she re- 
plied that the countess' friends were her friends 
and that I would always be a welcome visitor in 
her house. This was a good example of Siberian 
hospitality. 

We passed the hotel which, after the fashion of 
the country, is the leading cafe chantant of the 



162 ACBOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



city. It was established by a man who had been 
exiled from Petersburg, because he had grown too 
rich by lending money, which is against the law. 
The leading contractor is an exiled murderer. 
In Siberian towns such exiles are not necessarily 
under a ban. 

Tomsk has a market-place, where all sorts of 
possible and impossible things are offered for 
sale. Here, as in the other large towns, the 
main street has benches. A few beggars were 
sitting there, even on such a day as this. A 
man was pointed out who lived in town but still 
kept his land in the country commons and was 
registered as a peasant. Everyone must be reg- 
istered as belonging to some social caste. Si- 
beria is a free and easy land, where social dis- 
tinctions play no large part; still, I noticed on 
one train that the son of the governor of a 
province did not speak to another passenger 
from the same town, although they had known 
each other casually for years. 

We stopped at Mr. Makoushin's bookshop, a 
large store, which is doing a thriving business, 
as is his shop in Irkutsk. Around the corner 
from the shop was the house in which the pro- 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVEESITY 163 



prietor lived. We rang. A small, oblong win- 
dow in the door had a wooden cover. The one 
answering the bell could look out before the door 
was opened. We were still in Siberia. I hoped 
the maid would be a cautious one. 

It didn't happen so. The door opened with- 
out any premonitory symptoms. A bonne, in a 
white apron, much too long, ushered us into a 
small salon. Of course, we took off our rubbers 
and coats in the hall. The room which we en- 
tered was somewhat different from any other 
that I saw in Siberia. It was European — 
more German than Eussian. There were slimsy 
lace curtains, upholstered furniture and a plush 
table-cover. 

The middle-aged daughter received us. She 
teaches in the school, and for that reason had 
not come to the supper the evening before. She 
went to see if her father was at liberty. When 
the door opened and he came in, the room lost 
all its pettiness. He was tall and thin, with 
the high cheek-bones of the Eussian. His eyes, 
which were small and bright, were shrewd, until 
he smiled. He stroked his spare, gray beard in 
a leisurely fashion. 



164 ACEOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 



We told him what a pleasure it had been to 
see so beautiful a building. 

" I'm glad it pleased you, and glad that it was 
so nearly completed when you arrived. If we 
are fortunate with the Minister of Education, 
it will soon be open. America points the way 
in education. We follow. I suppose your 
school buildings are very beautiful." 

I replied that America was proud if she had 
been of the slightest inspiration in this build- 
ing. I told him that some of the schoolhouses 
were large. No, I did not add that a roving 
eye would detect any number of ramshackle 
buildings that are glorified by the name of school- 
houses. 

" The people in Siberia want education, and 
every year we have more scholars." 

" Yes," the President added, " the 1912 budget 
at Petersburg provided for an expenditure of 
$55,000,000 for educational purposes, and the 
local governments contribute nearly as much 
again." 

On the trains and in the towns, I heard much 
of the People's Universities which are established 
in the larger cities. They are supported from 



Magistratskaya, the main street of Tomsk 




People' s Institute — Tomsk 



TOMSK AND ITS UNIVERSITY 165 



private purses, although they come under the di- 
rection of the Minister of Education. If he 
chances to be liberal, it is easy to establish a new 
University. If he is not liberal, the objections 
that he can raise in such a case are insurmount- 
able. 

In 1910, it was found that the most famous 
professors in the Imperial University of Mos- 
cow were liberals. They were forced to resign. 
A committee of merchants raised the money 
necessary for their salaries, and they either en- 
tered the People's University, or engaged in re- 
search work. 

Mr. Makoushin sent his greetings to the Amer- 
ican schools. "We're trying," he said, "we're 
trying." 

What can Siberia not accomplish, when her 
citizens stand ready to help, with such a spirit as 
that? 



CHAPTER XVI 

OVER THE URALS 

THE streets were full of students as we drove 
back. The student, together with most 
adult Russians, wears a uniform. The profes- 
sors wear a uniform. The boys in the lower 
schools wear one. Not to wear some kind of 
regalia sets one out from the crowd in a most 
conspicuous manner. 

Madame and luncheon had been waiting some 
time. My duds were hustled into the suitcases. 
The President cashed some checks, — -last and 
final reach of courtesy. We sat down all to- 
gether for our parting meal. We drank to the 
journey, to their year, to Siberia. 

The lad of twelve, whom I especially liked, 
half rose in his place. His courage waned. The 
second time, he found his feet, and said, in slow 
French, " A votre sante, Madame." 

I loved him for it. A strange language, and 

166 



OVEE THE URALS 167 



all attention upon him. I knew well enough 
how difficult it must have been. 

In the early days in Siberia, it was the prac- 
tice to drink a stirrup-cup before the traveller 
mounted his horse. When the time had come 
when the President was to mount the platform 
on which he was to lecture, we drank a stirrup- 
cup. 

We shook hands and wished each other " God's 
speed towards good." The children brought me 
presents to carry to America. Madame and the 
oldest son, Leo, were to take me to Taiga. What 
mud there was ! Madame was not svelte, and we 
were a tight fit in the droshky. At any rate, 
we kept each other in. 

The danger of being thrown out has deter- 
mined the prevailing usage. By this time I un- 
derstood the Siberian method of riding in a 
droshky. If a gentleman escorts a lady, it is 
his task to hold her in the carriage — not an 
easy occupation. He accomplishes it by putting 
his arm around her waist. A man who fails to 
do this is considered lacking in courtesy. When 
one has become acquainted with the custom, it 
seems entirely sensible and comfortable, but it 



168 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



takes time to get used to settling back into a 
stranger's arms. 

An American, who had lived in Russia and 
whom we met in China, told us that he was 
driving with a woman physician, a Russian, 
middle-aged and of the rotund, Russian type. 
He knew nothing about holding her in, and they 
thrashed around inside that 3 by 5 droshky until 
the woman turned angrily toward him. 

" Have you been brought up in the backwoods, 
that you don't know enough to hold me in this 
droshky? " she said. 

He immediately put his arm about her waist, 
as far as it would go, and held on hard. 

The landscape from Tomsk to Taiga was a 
miserable succession of birch forests, bleak and 
snow-covered. The peasants clear the taiga by 
burning the forest and then plowing the land 
between the stumps. Leo showed us the little 
village where their family sometimes spent the 
summer. 

The Russian State train was two hours late. 
Naturally, we had tea at the long, central table. 
At the other end, five or six officers were drink- 
ing. A commercial traveller seized the moment 



OVER THE URALS 169 



to regale himself with a dinner, which, for vari- 
ety and inclusiveness challenged comparison. 

Of a sudden, we remembered that my ticket 
must be vised. I dove into my hand bag and 
dragged out the letter that Monsieur le Chef had 
written to the Taiga station master. Madame 
presented it to the major-domo, who rings the 
bell just before the train starts, and walks up 
and down the main corridor when he is not ring- 
ing the bell. The major-domo slowly read the 
paper. He disappeared through a door. In a 
few minutes, he came back to us, his cap in his 
hand. 

He and Madame conversed. I could only 
gather that we were going somewhere. I stood 
up. We went through the third class waiting- 
room. There was a great crowd of people. 
They sat on benches, — but often they sat on 
their bumpy luggage. 

In the third class in Russia one never sees a 
valise or bag. The bundles were tied up in sack- 
ing or in cloth and they were too large to enter 
the narrow doors of the cars. In consequence, 
it was more or less a vaudeville to see a car fill 
up. We frequently had that joy at stations. 



170 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



Each passenger has from one to five of these 
huge bundles. A tea-kettle is tied to one. They 
boost them up to the steep little steps and wedge 
them into the door. Then, I think, they swear. 
No one can come in or go out. The crowd must 
help push the mass through the door in sheer 
self-defense. 

Two women lay at full length over their 
rounded possessions. They slept. Children 
were darting about. The boys wanted to get into 
the long corridor and slide on the wet marble 
floor. Sometimes they managed it, but the 
corridor was first class territory and the major- 
domo chased them off. I bought him off once 
and the bright-eyed lads had five minutes of un- 
disturbed fun. 

There were two great reservoirs full of boiling 
water — " Keep-a-tok " — a word which one sees 
everywhere. There is no end to the amount of 
tea that a Eussian can hold. His interior ca- 
pacity is remarkable in every way. It was very 
hot in this third class waiting-room. The 
bundles had been wet with the snow and a foul 
steam rose from them. Instead of the long table, 
which is found in the first class waiting-rooms, 



OVER THE URALS 171 



there was a counter, where miniature apples and 
pears and much drink were sold. 

The procession had gotten ahead of me, be- 
cause there were all of these interesting things 
to see, so I found them patiently waiting in what 
seemed to be the station-master's office. There 
were many train-men standing about. When I 
arrived, the major-domo produced the letter. 
The station-master read it. He took off his cap. 
That was a remarkable letter in its effect on 
caps. We came back through the third class 
waiting-room to the regular ticket office. It 
was not open. We took some tea, and the boys 
had another slide, which they shared with a 
little girl. Some officers at the end of the table 
were drinking more than was good for them. 

The ticket for my reservation was bought just 
as the train came in. Madame had been telling 
me of her hopes for the children. She was such 
a good mother, — such an intelligent woman. 
She was bringing up her family conscientiously. 
It will be a long while before I shall enjoy a 
visit as much as I did that one. We kissed each 
other in the solemn Russian way, on both cheeks 
and the forehead. We said to each other that 



172 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



we should meet again. I stood on the platform 
and waved as far as I could see their figures 
in the snow. 

I went back into the compartment. Like all 
the Russian trains, it was a little narrower than 
the wagon-lits, but so comfortable. There were 
two good electric lights, one a reading lamp. 
I had promised Madame to take some supper 
from the large basket which she had insisted 
on putting up. It was tied in a clean white 
cloth. You'd have thought I was Russian in- 
deed. I rang for a bottle of Harsan water and 
feasted royally on bread and cheese and a roasted 
pheasant, with a delectable Siberian apple for 
dessert. There was so much left. The birds 
and the butter would never keep in that warm 
compartment. The porter grinned all over his 
stolid face when I presented the mass to him. 
The fruit and the bonbons I saved for future 
emergencies. 

Russians do not smile readily. They are not 
gay, — perhaps there's a reason. Leo had asked 
Madame if all Americans sang and laughed as 
I did, — if everybody laughed in America. 

America, my America! I took out the old 



OVEE THE URALS 173 



September letters and re-read them. Old letters 
are just as good as any. They bring you the same 
message of love every time you open them. 
There had not been time to receive letters in 
China, — but there would be some in Moscow, 
and Moscow came next. I realized for the first 
time that the train went slowly. 

It was a night of dreams. I dreamed of home 
and Tomsk and Paris. A railroad connected 
New York and Paris, and I was upon it. We 
had nearly reached New York — and my eyes 
opened on Siberia, — but such a changed Siberia ! 
I rubbed my eyes. Was I dreaming still? 

Miracles of miracles! Winter had passed in 
the night, and we were back again in the beauty 
of the fall. There was no snow; the brilliant 
sun shone through the red and yellow birches. 
The biting cold had gone out of the air and 
only an exhilarating snap remained. What 
happiness to wake on such a morning ! 

Sometimes one is a saint ; all the holy impulses 
of humanity are snug in one's heart. Then 
again it's different. This morning I cared not 
whether I was a saint or a sinner. I was sim- 
ply happy. 



174 



ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



On the way to the dining car I was afraid to 
look at anyone, lest they should gness the great 
joy that possessed me. Well-bred Anglo-Saxon 
ladies ought not to be so happy, simply because 
the winter storm is past and they are on the way 
Home. 

By this time, I could order breakfast very 
tidily, sour cream and all. There were no sur- 
plus words, except " Bootte tak dabry" (Have 
the goodness). I read, as usual, but I wasn't 
oblivious of the fact that I was the only woman 
in the car. 

Nechivo. I mustn't mind. 

A Person was making himself very conspic- 
uous. — I drank and ate French. X'allez pas 
croire — swallow of coffee — que j'attache — 
take butter — trop d'importance aux miseres in- 
evitables — put it on the bread. I wondered if 
there wasn't another woman in the whole train. 
A certain amount of staring one doesn't notice, 
— but this was too much ; there was not a soul 
to speak to, and Moscow four days away. 

Going back through the cars, the Person kept 
close behind. I saw a woman or two, but they 
were Bussian; suppose they spoke only Bussian? 



OVER THE URALS 175 



My vocabulary had painfully climbed to fifty 
words. What can one say with fifty words? 

The compartment had not been made up. I 
rang. The Person was instantly at the door, 
to ask if he could find the conductor. 

I wrote diligently all day, and didn't even have 
the coveted promenades at the stations, the Per- 
son was so objectionable. He spent the day in 
the door of my compartment. Nothing discon- 
certed him. 

It looked as if I should need assistance. In 
the same car were a Russian cavalry officer and 
his wife. Madame was not well, but her face 
was kind. The Tomsk apples and bonbons 
opened the acquaintance, and — joy of joys! — 
she spoke French. Madame allowed me to walk 
with her at the stations, and matters mended. 

We had left the plains now and were mount- 
ing the steppe again. Omsk, with its busy sta- 
tion, sang in my ear as we passed. It is the 
capital of the Siberian Cossacks. It was here 
that Dostoyevsky wrote " Memoirs from a Dead 
House." The expurgated translation makes 
your blood run cold. I met a man who had 
known the author. Dostoyevsky was a leader 



176 



ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



among the exiles and lie was often punished. 
Once he was flogged for saving another convict 
from drowning. Five blows of the knout are 
supposed to kill a man, and Dostoyevsky was 
taken to the Prison for dead. His wonderful 
spirit saved him and afterwards he was known 
always as Pokoinik (the dead). The officials 
had concluded that he must not live; so, like 
many others, his name died. 

Omsk is the center of the great butter trade 
of Siberia. The grazing land throughout this 
region is very good. A butter merchant boarded 
the train here, and he told us that one half of 
the butter consumed in London last year was pro- 
duced in Siberia. I waved my hand to the town 
in the distance. 

" Another time ! There are letters in Mos- 
cow.' ? 

Petropavlovsk is a large town — an important 
cattle market. The caravans from the south 
pass through Petropavlovsk and one sees an oc- 
casional camel. 

The engines — there were two now — climbed 
bravely up. We had left winter way behind. 
The long slopes were full of yellow and brown, 



OVER THE URALS 177 

* with here and there a patch of green grass. On 
the mountain tops, in the distance, there was 
snow. It made the green all the more precious. 
Just as one is about to lose a thing, it becomes 
doubly dear. 

Such glory! Sweeping country, carpeted 
with the rarest of colors ! The tops of the larger 
birches were green and the smaller ones shining 
yellow. It was an afternoon of surprises, first 
shadow, then sunshine. There was a mist in 
the distance; the hills were dim and blue, or, as 
the sun struck them, gleaming white. It was 
so warm, so blessed, — like coming back to life, 
after death. 

Flocks of birds hovered over the trees. The 
cattle stood out separately in the fields, not 
huddled together. The children smiled. Piles 
of birch wood, near the villages, caught the 
flickering rays of the sun. Everything glistened 
and gleamed. 

At Kourgan, a child laughed as she tried to 
tie a bright shawl about another child's head. 
The fringe bothered her. I tried to do it. I 
don't think it was very successful, but we all 
laughed together. The autumn haze softened 



i I 



178 



ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



and blended the whole landscape. It was God's 
earth, and it was good to see. 

We passed through miles and miles of white 
birches. Madame told me that in eastern Si- 
beria, where the birch was crowding out the 
native trees, Russians thought it the sign of the 
constantly extending dominion of the Tsar. The 
inhabitants treat this beautiful wood carelessly, 
in spite of their constant use of it. With its 
bark, Russian leather is tanned; the oil is used 
for perfume ; the wood is used for kitchen uten- 
sils and for firewood ; while the sap is prized as 
medicine. 

I was working hard, writing, and studying 
Russian. There were all nationalities on the 
train, except American. The Person never 
ceased to be uncomfortable, but I had the little 
Russian madame to speak to occasionally. 

We passed the iron-works of Mr. Chapelraloff. 
The foundry is surrounded by a multitude of 
log houses, some of one, some of two stories. 
Labor is very cheap and very poor. The peasants 
work in factories or mills, in any great numbers, 
only during the winter, and even then they do 
not work regularly. The Chef-de-train told me 



OVEE THE UKALS 179 



/ that this was a fine town to live in. It looked 
very dreary. 

Days differ on the Trans-Siberian. On some 
days there are many stops and on others there 
are few. The train passes every station with 
respect, so one can not say whether it is going 
to stop or not. Soldiers throughout the country 
cease their work or play, and stand at attention 
while the train passes, because it represents the 
Tsar's government. 

We had crawled along for a day and a half, 
before we reached Chelyabinsk, where the St. 
Petersburg line branches off. It is here that the 
exiles were divided, after their march over the 
Urals. Families were separated — friends bade 
each other goodbye forever — some went north 
and some went east. We were headed west, 
thank heaven ! 

At many of the stations there are booths, where 
the women of the countryside come to sell bread, 
boiled milk, butter, cooked game, etc. Through 
the Urals, the stations have booths selling cheap 
jewelry and wrought iron. The best Ural stones 
— amethyst, aquamarine, emerald, garnet, sap- 
phire and tourmaline — are found at Chelya- 



180 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



binsk. There were many exposed for sale, 
mostly glass, no doubt. 

I looked longingly at the aquamarines. There 
was a large one for 25 rubles. I had concluded 
not to buy it, even before a voice at my elbow 
said — in American ! — 

" I bought some stones at the mines here two 
years ago, and carried them to Chicago. The 
jeweler there told me they were worth ten per 
cent, less than I paid." 

What a thing convention is! To be sneered 
at, if you like ; but yet it is the brake of the ages, 
keeping many of us from untoward gulches. 
Just now it prevented me from throwing my 
arms around this man's neck and proclaiming 
him my dear friend. It helped me not to smile 
too much, and to thank him in an even voice. 

He had been walking on the platform at the 
stations, yet I had not recognized him as a fellow- 
countryman. I had noticed that he was in a first 
class compartment, and that he never spoke to 
anyone but a Japanese, who — the Person said, 
was coming to Europe on some financial embassy. 
I had never heard him speak a word of English. 

We walked up and down. There was a keen 



OVER THE URALS 181 

mountain breeze, but more refreshing than that 
was the characteristic American turn to this 
man's wit and his American point of view. I 
hadn't realized until that moment how different 
it was. He even said slang — and I listened 
for every syllable. 

The stations were no longer to be dreaded. 
As soon as the Person discovered that there was 
another English-speaking man on the train, he 
faded away into the distance and never bothered 
me again. 

The desolateness had gone out of the land- 
scape. At times there were forests of tall pine 
trees, with short birches pushing their yellow 
heads between. The mountains that can be seen 
from the train are not as impressive as those of 
Switzerland; but the effect of the radiant color 
can hardly be told. The yellow grass melted 
into the warmer, lighter yellow of the leaves, 
and echoed in the yellow brown of the upper 
trunks of the pine trees. 

Color in the forest, a tingle in the air, and 
a song in my heart. It sings of Home. 



CHAPTER XVII 



EMIGRANTS 

EMIGRANTS, in a seething mass, were 
headed in all directions. The government 
has done its best to encourage the people to 
settle in Siberia, — Russians, that is. The peas- 
ants are no longer serfs in Russia. They are 
emancipated, yet, like some of our negroes, they 
find it hard to gain a living. How dull, stupid 
and bestial a human face can look, no one knows 
until he has seen a Russian peasant of the lower 
type. 

They live in communes. If a member of the 
commune is hired, the money is paid to the 
commune; and no peasant can leave his village 
without the permission of the commune. 
Neither the peasant nor the commune owns the 
land; they have only an inheritable usufruct, 
which means the right to cultivate it. Neither 
the peasant nor the commune can sell this right, 
nor can they even give it away; but the individ- 

182 



EMIGRANTS 



183 



ual peasant can be held responsible for the pay- 
ment of his land tax, if the commune is too poor 
to pay it. 

The punishments meted out by communes are 
picturesque, as well as practical. A commune 
near Krasnoyarsk, which is very poor, decided 
last year to remit the fines of money. The of- 
fender was ordered to give a bottle of vodka to 
each member of the commune. All minor 
offenses are judged locally. It is only for great 
offenses that the culprit is sent to the Mironby 
Sud. I hope that some day America, in dealing 
with Russian immigrants, will make use of their 
communal training. 

In the communes, the peasants are often born 
to a heritage of debt; and the government has 
been trying to make their lot more endurable by 
assisting them to emigrate. In 1906, the govern- 
ment decided to aid 1,000,000 people to go to 
western Siberia every year. On trial, this num- 
ber was found to be impracticable and, according 
to the published account, 250,000 are now as- 
sisted annually. Every family is allowed the 
equivalent of $100 in cash. Forty acres of land 
is given to each male member of the household. 



184 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



Supplies and agricultural implements are 
bought on long credit. 

The immigrants are further helped by free 
medicines at the stations and free bread for the 
children and the sick. At every station there is 
a huge cauldron of boiling water, " Keep-a-tok," 
on the platform. Half the train rushes out with 
tea-kettles. This is not merely hot water — it is 
actively boiling. 

Few Bussians are so poor that they do not own 
something that looks like a horse. One of the 
people on the train, speaking of a peasant who 
was very poor, said, " He hasn't anything — he 
hasn't even a horse." 

The travellers are mostly muzhiks, done up in 
sheepskin coats, the wool on the inside. In 
Moscow they told us that only shaggy, long- 
haired furs are worth the wearing, — furs like 
seal didn't keep one warm. These men often 
had their feet swathed in sacking, and sometimes 
straw wrapped over that. 

There were occasional Cossacks, "very bad," 
as I was assured by everybody. They are in- 
tensely interesting, anyhow, and some day I am 
going to the Cossack country. The Cossacks 



/ 



EMIGRANTS 



185 



whom we saw were not as tall as the Russians, 
but well set up, their white sheepskin hats on 
the sides of their heads, and many silver car- 
tridge-cases in their belts. They wore high 
riding-shoes of red leather. What is there about 
red leather shoes that stays the eye of a babe or 
a grandmother? Their coats were long and 
belted and they walked as if there were springs 
in their heels. 

Hunters were on the trains in October. There 
are tigers about Lake Balkash, lynxes in the 
Altai, bears everywhere, and many two-humped 
camels, deer, roebucks, gazelles, antelope, wolves, 
foxes, badger and ermine. I want you to see 
this picture of a bear and its cub that were cap- 
tured by one of my Irkutsk acquaintances. 
(The next illustration.) 

We passed through the Kinghiz steppe. The 
Kinghiz are a strange people, whose national 
proverb is, " Better fast for a week than change 
any custom of our grandfathers. " They corre- 
spond, in a way, to our Indians. They live with 
their flocks, and their commerce is in sheep. A 
wife is worth four good sheep. A horse brings 
the same price, but a cow is worth eight sheep. 



186 ACKOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



On the train there was a young Russian 
woman, who was a medical student. Like so 
many women in Siberia, she was not content with 
an idle life. 

" Why should I stay at home and do nothing? 
I am engaged, but my fiance is in college, just 
as I am. I would have studied medicine at 
Tomsk University, but women are no longer re- 
ceived there. They hope to be admitted again. 
There is such need of physicians in Siberia." 

She had been camping with her father all sum- 
mer. She told me of the immense number of 
different peoples that go to make up Siberia. 
Her father was a government official, and in 
one trip of two months they had spoken fifteen 
languages and dialects. The list which goes to 
make up Russia is long. Poles, Tartars, Finns, 
Persians, Circassians, Mongolians, Mingrelians, 
Great Russians, Little Russians, Cossacks, Ger- 
mans, Jews and Greeks, — all governed from the 
city of Petersburg. Where in the world is there 
such centralization? 

The Orthodox Russian Church requires all in- 
habitants to be conformists, but only negative 
conformists. Outward observance of the Ortho- 



EMIGRANTS 



187 



dox rites is demanded, together with the keeping 
of the two hundred fete-days of the Church. I 
was told that there was every variety of nature 
worship in Siberia. 

One of the many interesting sects is the Old 
Believers, who date from the time in the reign 
of the Emperor Alexis, when the Patriarch Nil- 
son had the rites of the Church revised. Errors 
had constantly crept into the holy books, because 
they were copied in the monasteries by copyists 
who were peasants. It was ordered that the 
erroneous books be destroyed, together with the 
old icons. This the Old Believers refused to do. 
They were consequently forced to live in secret 
places. The crucial point in the creed of the 
Old Believers is the spelling of the name of 
Jesus, — whether there shall be a J or not. 

The great plain of western Siberia covers 2,- 
000,000 square versts. It is divided into the gov- 
ernments of Tobolsk and Tomsk. In this part 
of the province there is fine grazing land. There 
were cattle everywhere. The cows were small 
and lean, but they give milk having a large per- 
centage of cream. The black soil reminds one of 
Illinois, 



188 ACKOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



Two Germans on the train had come from 
China to buy horses and cows. 

" You have to hold a writing for every trans- 
action. I take a receipt when I buy a cigar," 
said one. 

That is a national characteristic. From Mos- 
cow to Warsaw, when I did not have the porter 
write out a receipt, as I paid him for the sheets, 
one of the women in the compartment spoke to 
me: 

" You must have a receipt for everything in 
Russia. Nothing is too small. The people have 
no regard for any spoken promise." 

Nechivo ! 

After descending the Urals, we passed Ufa, 
that old Tartar town, which still shelters queer 
customs, but prospers in spite of all. At Kinel, 
a branch line goes south-east to central Asia, 
and there is a Wagon-lit train from Moscow to 
Andijan. Down across the open steppe lay the 
unending deserts of Asia. 

In this region there is a nomad population of 
Bashkirs, who come into a town of huts for the 
winter, but in summer roam through the flat 
country with their herds. 



EMIGRANTS 



189 



The pious stood up and crossed themselves, as 
we reached the iron bridge over the Volga. 

Through the Pilgrim, as interpreter, a student 
was persuaded to sing "A-down the Mother 
Volga." He began shyly and low. One by one, 
the passengers joined in, and it stirred one's 
blood to hear these men's voices saluting the 
river. The bridge itself is worthy of a nod. 
Seven thousand tons of ore were used in its con- 
struction, all taken from the Ural mines. 

Samara was at the other — the western — end 
of the bridge. There are koumiss sanitariums 
here. A Tartar woman, who had been at a san- 
itarium, came into the next compartment. She 
was tall and slender. Her colorless, olive skin 
was like rich cream. Her lips were thin and 
very red. Her straight hair was parted in the 
middle and puffed. Her hands were whiter than 
her face and useless. She had taken the koumiss 
cure for her complexion. Samara is not starred 
in Baedeker, but it should be in the book of 
beauty. 

We thought the waters of the Volga should 
have stopped at Samara long enough to test the 
koumiss. The river is yellow and turbid. 



190 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



From Samara to Astrakhan it has low banks, 
and the steamer trip, which is comfortable, is 
not picturesque. Farther north, however, to- 
wards Xizhni-Novgorod, it is delightful, and the 
accommodations on the steamer are said to be 
livable. 

As we came nearer Moscow, the country grew 
more monotonous — if that were possible. It 
was the monotony of a flat country with occa- 
sional towns; and now the railroad conde- 
scended to pass through the villages. 

In one gray settlement of log houses, a group 
of children came running through the one 
street towards the train. A line of stately geese 
waddled beside the fence. A mother held her 
baby flat against the window to see us pass. In 
the field outside the town, a man and a girl stood 
facing the sun, hand in hand. Along the foot- 
path, a white-haired man walked his horse to- 
wards home. 

There had been many stops all day. Conse- 
quently, the American and I were better ac- 
quainted. I had fallen into the pleasant habit 
of dining with the Eussian officer and his wife. 
Madame and I talked, and Madame translated 



EMIGRANTS 



191 



for the officer. I could understand his questions 
about America/ so long as he didn't change the 
subject. That is the thing to be dreaded in a 
new language. 

At St. Moritz — St. Malo — in Paris — 
everyone had said it was mostly Russian women 
whom one saw smoking so conspicuously in the 
corridors — that all Russian women smoke. I 
met only three women in Siberia or Russia who 
smoked. I have met many in England and 
China and some in America. When I asked 
women about it, they said : 

" It used to be. My grandmother smoked. 
Everybody used to, — and they say it's coming in 
at Petersburg." 

Russian men make up for any lack of smoking 
among women. They smoke while they're wait- 
ing for breakfast. They smoke straight through 
breakfast — between mouthfuls. It's a very 
funny sight. The cigarets get mixed up with 
the tea and have to be thrown away. Matches 
mix with the butter, and altogether such close 
companionship of smoking and eating doesn't 
make for tidiness. 

The groups at the stations showed the effect 



192 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



of the oncoming city. There was less color. 

Occasionally one saw it in the country still. 
We passed a red gravel bank at the side of the 
track. Men were perched upon it at various 
levels. The blue and orange blouses stood out 
against the red earth. 

Women often work on the railroad. In short 
skirts and men's heavy shoes, it is difficult to tell 
that they are women, until you see the shawls 
over their heads. 

The Siberian woman is not very attractive, 
but she is blest with brains in every class above 
the peasant. 

On the platform at Penza, a large town, in the 
crisp air, a woman was spread out over her 
bundles, fast asleep. She held her precious tin 
tea-kettle in her hand. One large leg, in a red 
woolen stocking, went off at a right angle from 
the rest of her. She wore men's high boots and 
a man's fur coat. 

In Moscow the peasant women wear long 
skirts, which cover up their ungainly boots. 
The skirts become covered with mud and slush 
for eight or ten inches and go swish-swash about 
the leather boots. In the country the women 



EMIGRANTS 



193 



wear the same boots but they are sensible enough 
to wear short skirts. 

The distinguishing between men and women 
is much harder, because the coats of the men 
have a full skirt, which comes to about the same 
length as the women's. Both sexes wear bright 
belts over their coats, in order to keep out the 
cold. 

Through the daytime, there were often beg- 
gars at the stations, — miserable, half-clothed 
creatures, who turned away at a cross look. 
Through the region about Petropavlovsk, where 
the crops had been poor and the cattle and peo- 
ple were on the verge of starvation, the Russian 
passengers gave liberally. 

The days were so happy. My writing pros- 
pered. At the Pilgrim's suggestion, I re-read 
" Marie Claire," and found its simplicity as tonic 
as a mountain stream. The Russian officer was 
greatly interested in the rumor of war, and 
hopped out to buy papers at every stop. He 
asked the station-master if any soldiers were 
passing. They suggested that I should come to 
their hotel in Moscow, but I had written to the 
National. I hoped for letters there. Not wild 



194 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



horses could have turned rue from the door. It 
was agreed that if they could not find rooms at 
their hotel they were to come to the National. 

On Sunday there were larger crowds at the 
stations. World customs are inclusive. Peas- 
ants and officers alike had come to the 
" yahgzahl " to see the train. There were too 
many young girls in groups, who ranged up and 
down, laughing softly and smoothing down their 
hair, which was puffed and marcelled. 

One lassie had a daring way of tossing a wool 
scarf over her shoulder. It was no sooner in 
place than she began to pull it gently down, to 
give it a flirty toss backward. I thought of what 
a Russian had said. I asked him whether what 
the Irkutsk countess had related about the few 
marriages was true. He nodded his head. 

" Yes. It's true. Men don't dare to marry a 
Russian girl. Tou can't be sure whether she is 
good or not, now-days." 

Young men wearing the blue caps of the Uni- 
versity students were in groups. Evidently they 
had come to the country for the week end. Here 
and there a young girl, whose eyes were lowered, 
wore a colored apron, embroidered in cross- 



EMIGRANTS 



195 



stitch. A Russian crowd is never without color, 
and with the background of the yellow leaves 
and the brown grass every turn of the head 
brought a new picture. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

PUTIEM DOROJSKI ( MOVING ALONG) — A SALUTA- 
TION OF THE ROAD 

SO we came towards Moscow. It was curious 
to see a large factory marked Singer Sew- 
ing Machines. There are American agricultural 
implements sold here too, but it is not easy for 
a foreigner to acquire a large fortune either in 
Eussia or Siberia. The government is not 
cordial. Yet the country has such unexampled 
richness. Fortunes are lying about, to be taken 
by anyone having the courage and patience and 
lack of conscience necessary. The amount of 
red tape that is required even to sell a fur skin 
is unbelievable. 

If the opportunities for Americans to gain 
wealth in Siberia appear scant, there are many 
positions open to those who wish to teach Eng- 
lish, or to occupy the place of English clerk. 
Such persons should always keep in communica- 
tion with their home consul. 

196 



PUTIEM DOROJSKI 19? 



I was seeking no position, however, and I re- 
tired as usual on Sunday night. The conductor 
was to knock on my door at six, for we were 
scheduled to reach the Koursk station at five 
minutes of seven. 

I dreamed of Home. I thought my best be- 
loved was knocking on the door; he had come to 
find me. I was so glad! I awoke standing in 
the aisle. There was an awful pounding on the 
door. 

" Da — da — da." 

It must be plain that I was awake. How 
they pounded! I opened the door a little, and 
a woman, bonneted and furred, walked in, as if 
by prior right. I felt rather angry, that a com- 
panion should have been given me in the middle 
of the night, and so near the journey's end as 
Toula. I had been alone across Asia and Europe 
and here I hadn't charity enough to share my 
compartment for half a night. 

The lady was fat and her clothes were tight. 
I aided her as I could, and we retired to rest, 
her bed having been made ; a performance which 
was preceded by moving every one of my posses- 
sions. Most of the small things lost themselves, 



198 ACKOSS SIBEBIA ALONE 



and the conductor and I had a still hunt for them 
in the morning. The hunt was a silent one on 
my side. He talked all the time and it gradually 
dawned upon me that if I had feed him the night 
before, instead of waiting until morning, the 
lady would have been placed in another com- 
partment. 

According to agreement, the Pilgrim came for 
me. We stalked over the wet pavement after the 
porters. The Pilgrim and the porter interviewed 
some cabmen. As the clerk of the National put 
it, they were " buying a carriage. " There is no 
regular tariff in Moscow; you bargain for your 
drive. It turned out that we each paid a ruble. 

The procession started. I shall never forget 
that impression of Moscow. It was too early for 
anyone except the cleaners to be about. A stray 
boy opened a shop door, or a man leaned across 
a window to gather up the papers that had cov- 
ered the display. The streets were wet. A cold 
mist rose from the horses' backs. The air was 
very chilly. 

Through the grayness burst the gold spires of 
the city. Around a corner was the gay, frescoed 



PUTIEM DOEOJSKI 199 



wall of a church. The streets wound in and out 
in an aimless way, but every turn showed some 
unexpected beauty. Now it was an odd door 
and then a balcony. 

The morning could not make Moscow cold. 
She was welcoming us with all her Byzantine 
warmth. 

At the hotel, the sole occupant of the office 
spoke Russian. Thanks to the Pilgrim, I claimed 
a room ; but alas ! alas ! there were no letters. 

Looking out of my window, Moscow was still 
beautiful, but not so gay. There was a church, 
side on. A fresco of bright saints decorated the 
wall. A little hood at the top did its best to 
keep the weather off the holy company. The 
gilded turrets drew down the sun's rays — after 
much effort. 

Breakfast over, I could hardly wait for the 
banks to open. It's a long time from seven to 
ten. The tired-eyed porter undertook my case. 
A boy was despatched to buy a cab and we were 
off. 

A man opens the door at the bank — another 
directs you upstairs. Human beings are such a 



200 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



cheap commodity in Russia! An armed soldier 
walked up and down in the hall. It gives one 
a feeling of security. 

Were there any letters? There were. There 
were stacks of them. I stood there and read them 
through and laughed aloud for very joy. The 
soldier turned up my aisle and walked past 
twice. Poor man! What a shame to disturb 
him! I looked up and smiled. Then he knew 
that I was not a nihilist, — only a happy 
traveller, — and he went back to walk up and 
down the corridor. I felt like blessing every- 
one. I gave the opening man and the pointing 
man a pourboire. They understood. Letters 
had been received before by Germans, — all 
foreigners are now called Germans in Russia, as 
they used to be called Chinese. 

A permit is necessary for the Kremlin, the 
famous palace, and it takes a few days to obtain 
it. I went to the Consul's office. The Presi- 
dent at Tomsk had telegraphed to the Consul. 
I was ushered into the inner office. Two men 
were giving the windows a final wash, before 
they were nailed up for the winter. 

Thanks to that telegram, everything was 



PUTIEM DOROJSKI 201 



arranged. What have I ever done, that people 
should be so considerate? 

The Consul gave me his card, with a message 
written on it, and I drove to the Kremlin. It 
was a radiant winter day now, cold and clear. 
The streets were still wet, and the roofs, in 
places, guarded the rain. The sun slanted across 
the newly gilded turrets of the churches. In 
front of the Iversky Virgin, the most sacred of 
the minor chapels, peasants were kneeling in the 
mud. They surely couldn't have been praying 
to the God of cleanliness. The steps of this 
chapel are made of iron, because that is the only 
material that will stand the wear of the wor- 
shipping feet. 

The jagged wall of the Kremlin rose in 
brightening colors. There! Yes, it is the holy 
Spassky gate. Off came the izvostehik's hat. I 
bowed by soul, since my hat was pinned on. At 
the side, almost in the path of the droshkies, 
stood a man praying. Above the arch, the holy 
image shone in the light of the silver lantern, 
which burns night and day. 

For once I found a Russian izvostchik driv- 
ing faster than I cared to go. I wouldn't have 



202 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



gotten out of that droshky for anything. The 
cabbie and I didn't understand each other. 
There was an officer stationed outside the en- 
trance of the first building. He took the card, 
read it, took off his cap, and conversed with the 
driver. 

Bows — deep bows. An officer was summoned, 
who directed the coachman where to go. 

We went there. A guard stood at the gate. 
He took the card, read it, took off his cap, and 
conversed with the driver. 

After that, we had a delightfully long drive 
past many churches, along a white wall, and 
into what seemed like a quiet street. At the ear- 
nest invitation of the izvostchik, I got out of the 
droshky and went into the office. A porter, with 
stolid face and anxious eyes, sat in the hall. 
He gave me a comprehensive look, which implied 
that " foreigners were no treat to hira." He 
didn't even open his mouth, which was a saving 
of force. He simply waved his hand. Another 
man appeared, took the card, and returned with 
the permit. 

Then we rattled through the streets again to 
the main entrance. 



PUTIEM DOROJSKI 203 



I try to form in my mind a plan of procedure, 
before reaching a place the language of which is 
new. This time I couldn't do it. I could only 
say to myself, over and over, 

" How beautiful ! How entrancing ! " 

I said it to the izvostchik. He smiled and 
whipped up his horse. 

How can I make you see it? 

You know the pictures — but the living Krem- 
lin is so much more beautiful — more engulfing. 
It stands on the top of a hill, which its rosy, 
notched walls surround. The green-roofed watch 
towers peep up at intervals, and everywhere 
there are towers and turrets, gold and red and 
blue and white. 



CHAPTER XIX 



HOLY MOTHER MOSCOW 

I WAS dazed by this flood of beauty. So it 
happened that the doorman had taken my 
permit and I was standing near the cloak-racks, 
rather helplessly. A party was just forming. I 
supposed I was to join it, I trailed after. 

No. Something was the matter. They were 
speaking to me. I was to wait, A guide 
brought a chair and said that the head guide 
had been sent for. Everybody in sight was Rus- 
sian, for the tourist season was past. Several 
uniformed men glanced carelessly at me — in 
passing. They were paying too much attention 
to me. I began to wish that my passport was 
in my pocket. The hotel management was hav- 
ing it stamped, so that I could leave town with- 
out inconvenience. 

A round, smiling man came down the stair- 
case. He bowed and said that he was the head 
guide ; and he spoke German. 

204 



HOLY MOTHER MOSCOW 205 



"Don't you speak French?" I asked. 

" I can't speak French. I wish I could. But 
I speak so slowly that my German is almost 
French. Anybody can understand it." 

He was right. His German was very easy. 
Who am I, to say that it was bad? 

We started. The long, regal staircase brought 
us to the newer portion of the Kremlin, which is 
big and sumptuous, and not very different from 
other great palaces. Perhaps there is rather 
more gold than usual. In the hall of St. George, 
for example, the whole ceiling is of gold. The 
halls of various other saints were big and grand 
and chilly. Why did they waste this huge mass 
of marble, porphyry and all the rest, on a foreign 
style, which is approximated in many other 
large cities, when at their very finger-tips lay 
a monument of national architecture to be 
copied? 

We paused at the throne of the Tsar. The 
canopy, encrusted with gems, is surmounted by 
a golden crown. The red covering was drawn up 
from the corner of the steps. A party passed. 
It was composed of humble people. Many of 
them knelt on the steps of the throne. Some 



206 ACEOSS SIBERIA ALONE 



raised the cover and kissed the red carpet. If 
knees begin to kneel, they quickly form the habit. 
Many times in Russia I asked myself whether it 
was better to kneel so often, or not to kneel at 
all. 

This new part of the Kremlin has one advan- 
tage over the other palaces that I have seen: it 
is more personal — more near. I'm not sure 
but that this effect is due to the fact that the 
rooms are not separated by long corridors, as is 
usual. They often open into small, irregular 
halls. 

The doors are solid gold and solid silver and 
solid bronze. The guide made such unlimited 
use of " ganz," that I must have looked incredu- 
lous, for he insisted on my shutting one of the 
doors. There is no doubt that it was solid some- 
thing. The arms of the various sovereigns are 
wrought into the doors, and often into the wall- 
covering. 

There was a bed-room, which is used by the 
Tsarina, on the infrequent occasions when she 
visits Moscow. This room has beautiful jade 
columns, and solid pieces of jade for the tops of 
the tables. An ornate gilt dressing-table in the 



HOLY MOTHEK MOSCOW 207 



queen-mother's room had a mirror for its huge 
top. Think of seeing the under side of your 
chin every time you powdered your nose. If 
you laughed, you'd see the roof of your mouth. 
Being a queen has its drawbacks, after all. 

At every turn in the 700 chambers of the Krem- 
lin there is a chapel. Whenever an addition was 
built, a chapel or two was included. Some of 
these chapels, seen through glass doors, are like 
glistening diamonds. 

Party after party dragged past us. We sat 
in chairs — on chests — even on forbidden bro- 
cade. If there was a beautiful chair, the guide 
uncovered it for me to sit upon. He loved the 
objects he was showing He fingered the old bro- 
cade tenderly. No slightest turn of a post or in- 
teresting lock escaped him. We lingered in the 
room where Napoleon had slept. The bedspread 
was made by a dead queen, and it is beginning to 
fall apart in places. He patted the threads into 
place. 

The Old Kremlin, or Terem, is a labyrinth of 
crooked passages and low doors. We were in 
the Tsarika's Eoom, most brilliantly barbaric in 
its riotous gold walls, on which are bright feudal 



208 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



frescoes. This room was restored during the 
time of Nicholas I., and they put in a highly pol- 
ished French floor in place of the interesting 
chiselled stone, which is in some of the rooms and 
passages. It is not comfortable to walk on — 
Nechivo — it is most beautiful. 

At the entrance of the Gold Dining Hall I stood 
transfixed. It was a symphony in ebony and 
low tones. Here, after his coronation, the Tsar 
comes, in all his royal trappings, to dine with his 
nobles. An ornate pillar in the middle of the 
room is surrounded by two shelves, upon which 
the royal plate is displayed during the Tsars 
visits. On state occasions, the guests are served 
from gold plate, by lackeys in gilded livery. In 
the Treasury we saw the 1600 artistically chased 
silver and gold vessels. There is a gallery, where 
the ladies may look down and see their lords eat 
— if they have good luck. The opening is small, 
and only a limited number of ladies could profit 
by it. A kind hand has placed it opposite the 
sovereign's throne. If he dines alone, he can, 
at least, regard the ladies of his entourage. 

It is said that civilization tends to diminish a 
nation's architectural ability. As the human 



HOLY MOTHER MOSCOW 209 



mind becomes more complex, its expression is 
not so straightforward. Instead of trusting it- 
self to build its dreams, it looks about to see how 
others have expressed themselves, and in the 
looking the inspiration is lost. The older Krem- 
lin was an inspiration. They used the natural 
materials of the country, — wood and concrete, 
masonry covered with plaster, which is white- 
washed. 

We were in that Golden Dining Room. The 
kind guide allowed me to sit at the little opening 
and pretend that I was a lady of the Russian 
Court. It was only pretense — and still, if one 
were born in Russia — ? How pretty Caroline 
would have looked with her gold hair against the 
dark background. 

These rooms hold every charm of perfect pro- 
portion and harmonizing color, allied with regal 
splendor; but one could have lived contentedly 
in any of them. The ceilings are low and the 
arches bring them still nearer. The guide was 
explaining about the reception, throne, dining, 
council and sleeping rooms, sometimes making 
me say over again what he had said, that he 
might be sure I understood. 



210 ACEOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



" You speak German/' he said encouragingly, 
" sehr gut." 

When we had finished the tour of the rooms, 
we went through the Old Kremlin again. I 
didn't ask him. He knew that I couldn't bear 
to leave the beautiful place. 

The end had to come at last. I would gladly 
have emptied my purse into his hands. He de- 
served it. As it was, I gave him three rubles. 
He had allowed me to stay in that enchanted 
palace over three hours. 

" When you are in the hotel, and think of some- 
thing that you'd like to see, come back tomor- 
row. You don't need to give me any more money. 
I'll be here all the morning. You have only to 
ask for me." 

A Eussian to whom I was praising the guide 
said he didn't dare to risk receiving another fee 
as large as that, for it meant too much vodka. 
He was entrenching himself against possible 
temptation. 

I walked past the belfry of Ivan the Great, 
which is really the campanile of the Kremlin. 
Beneath the cupola is the inscription, " Under 
the protection of the Holy Trinity, by order of 



HOLY MOTHER MOSCOW 211 



the Tsar and Grand Duke Boris Feodorovitch, 
autocrat of all the Russias," etc. 

Near by is the largest bell in the world, " Tsar 
Kolokol." It fell during one of the many fires 
in Moscow, and lay buried for a hundred years. 
Now it stands on a pedestal. At the side of 
this bell, which was never rung, is a huge cannon, 
which was never fired. 

The Cathedral of the Assumption was immedi- 
ately in front. It is here that the Tsar crowns 
himself. There is no one holy enough to perform 
the office for him. The interior is hung with 
banners and portraits; all other exposed spaces 
are of gold. There were a few beggars and two 
old women in the church. The custodian in- 
sisted on my following him into a sort of sac- 
risty, to view some sepulchres. With his coat 
sleeve, he wiped a place for me to kiss. Seeing 
that I was not to profit by the privilege, one of 
the old women, who had followed us, placed a 
kiss there. 

I did wish I could have bartered for one of the 
icons. They were particularly appealing and 
very old. They were completely encrusted with 
precious stones. 



212 ACKOSS SIBEKIA ALONE 

The beggars walked through the church for a 
distance after me. There was no cab in sight. 
When one appeared, I hailed the driver and 
gave him the order. 

" Hotel National." 

He sat stolidly and shook his head. " Ne pah- 
neemah'yoo. Ne pahneemah'yoo." 

There was no other cab in sight. Who would 
make this man understand? 

The guide. 

It was something of a hunt to find the guide. 
He really found me. He saw me floating about 
and inferred that I must be in difficulty. He 
came to see. The driver grunted, turned his 
horse, and we scampered off. It was snowing. 
The little horse and the big izvostchik and the 
medium fare all liked it. 

That afternoon I tramped the streets, visiting 
every church that came. There are said to be 
sixteen hundred churches in Moscow. I asked 
several of the inhabitants, but they differed in 
their estimates. 

One woman said, " How can I tell? A forty of 
forty," — which means an uncountable number. 

The names of these churches are amazing. 




The Vassili Blagennoi Cathedral, Moscow 



HOLY MOTHEE MOSCOW 213 



" St. Nicholas on Chicken's Legs " belonged to 
poultry dealers. " Life-giving Trinity in the 
Mud " might have been the name of any of them, 
but it is applied to only one. " The Nine Holy 
Martyrs on Cabbage-Stalks" is on the site of a 
market garden. These churches are often pink 
or green or white, with green roofs and many 
gilded domes. 

After your eyes have drunk their fill of the 
Kremlin, you begin to notice the amazing Church 
of Vasili Blagennoi. It is like a bouquet of flow- 
ers, rather than a cathedral. There is a spire, 
and on each of the nine chapels is a dome, all 
different in color and shape. The fa§ades also 
are individual. One can only compare it to 
flowers, because of the superabundance of color, 
— red and green and white and pink and blue 
and gold and silver. It is like nothing else. 
Something of its history stays in its twisted 
spires, which are Byzantine and Hindoo at the 
same time. 

The province of Kazan was conquered by Ivan 
the Terrible and the inhabitants were ordered to 
bear the expense of building this cathedral. The 
architect was an Italian, and the story is that as 



214 ACROSS SIBERIA ALONE 



soon as the church was finished, his eyes were 
burnt out by order of the Tsar, who wished no 
replica of his wonderful church. 

Inside there were women praying and lighting 
tapers. The floors were covered with square jute 
rugs, which had become wet from passing feet. 
Kneeling on the wet rug before the altar of the 
Virgin was a young mother, her baby's head on 
her shoulder. The baby slept. I walked for- 
ward to see the mother's face. She was a Tartar. 
The clear white of her skin was pressed against 
the red shawl that covered her baby's head. A 
pink shadow colored her cheek. Her eyes were 
raised in mute supplication, and the tears ran 
softly down her face. There was no one near. 
As I passed, I patted her arm She turned and 
smiled. There seems to be a fairly well authen- 
ticated belief that Russian husbands sometimes 
whip their wives. Perhaps she had been 
whipped, perhaps she hadn't. At any rate, she 
wept. 

Outside, twilight was falling over the white 
city. I hailed a cab ; by a concession of fate, the 
izvostchik spoke German. We drove for an hour. 

Moscow is a fairy city when her streets are car- 



HOLY MOTHER MOSCOW 215 



peted with snow. The green river ran between 
white banks. The Quai of the Kremlin was a 
mass of white and pink and gold. The shadow 
of the wall lay heavily on the snow. Above the 
wall, at short intervals, the turrets lifted their 
red heads. 

Just then, a bewildering yellow light flooded 
the river, the Kremlin, the whole panorama. It 
was the tardy sun, come out only to set ; with it 
came the end of the hour. As if it mattered ! I 
had bargained only for an hour. Did that 
change the sunset? 

We went straight on, flush into the golden 
west. The river changed from green to gold — 
the buildings were radiant pink. The street 
over which we splashed was red and white by 
turns. We flew over the tinted ground. The 
buildings were great lumps of white or crimson 
or pink. Darkness stalked upon us from the 
side streets. He waited now at every corner. 
He pointed the way home. 

In my room, with warmth and light, I read 
through the Kremlin guide-book, and saw it all 
over again. 



CHAPTER XX 



FAREWELLS 

THE Pilgrim had said he would be back for 
dinner. It was already after eight and I 
inferred that his friends were feting him. 
Thanks to the kind Russian custom, I could dine 
in my room. 

The dinner was no sooner over than a knock 
came at the door. It was the Pilgrim, quite out 
of breath from hurrying. He had only then fin- 
ished the day's business. Some friends were din- 
ing with him. Would I come? 

I sat with them and heard an entertaining dis- 
cussion concerning life in Russia; heard, too, 
about the apartment into which one of the friends 
and his wife were to move the next day. The 
rent was 1800 rubles — $900 — a year, for an 
apartment of seven rooms, not too far from the 
center of the town. 

One of the wives asked me to go the next day 
to look over the work at the Handicraft Rooms. 

216 



FAREWELLS 



217 



This Society is composed of Russian women who 
teach peasants to do various sorts of hand work. 
The government supplies the material, often be- 
low cost price, and sometimes gives it. The first 
floor was taken up with an exhibition of furni- 
ture, many of the pieces being replicas of old de- 
signs. Upstairs were odd bits of jewelry, laces, 
embroideries and wonderful toys. The limit of 
my trunks was reached so quickly. 

That afternoon I spent with the Verestchagin 
pictures. You know how there are days when 
your guardian angel flies ahead and paints the 
world in gay colors for your eyes? He had 
painted all Moscow, but most of all this gallery. 
The visit was enchanting from the first. 

The low white building of the Tretyakov Gal- 
lery is set back from the street. The doors, 
which open hard, are of beautiful design. I 
stayed to trace the outline with my eye. 

There is a usual procedure in all such matters. 
The attendant on the other side of the door 
awaited me, for I had given signs of my presence. 
When I did not appear, he opened the door and 
came to see what kept this next visitor from 
entering. 



218 ACBOSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



One passed to the lines of hooks, where the 
wraps are left. There was a row of huge sacking 
bags on the floor. Startled for a minute, I won- 
dered what was put into them. I felt of one. 
Eubbers w r ere inside — Eussian goloshes, which 
take up a considerable amount of space and look 
not unlike the figure of a child. 

One goes through several rooms of well painted 
but badly hung pictures, in order to make the ac- 
quaintance of Verestchagin. I have seldom been 
more deeply impressed than I was by this man's 
w r ork. He set himself the task of showing hu- 
manity the curse of war; and at the last, still 
striving for a final picture, he went down on the 
Eussian flagship Petropavlovsky, at Port Ar- 
thur. I stayed until the uttermost limit of the 
gallery time, and held a fairly long conversation 
in Eussian with one of the custodians. It was 
somewhat mixed, but we each cherished a deep 
admiration for Verestchagin. 

Another jolly dinner with the Pilgrim, followed 
by a long talk and many stories of Siberia, closed 
the day. 

There was only one forenoon left. Should I 
go to the Kremlin, or to the pictures? It was a 



"The Conquered" by Verestchagine 



FAREWELLS 



219 



compromise. I drove past the Kremlin, photo- 
graphing its Babel towers in my mind as best I 
could; and saying pretty things to the Spassky 
gate. 

Then I went to the gallery. I bade "Good- 
by" to the pictures I liked best; to the yellow 
soldier against the yellow wall, guarding the 
" Conquered " Arabs, who slept in brilliant 
clothes, limp against the wall, but alive and 
warm if you touched them ; to the " Bride," 
who stood before the bright-hued company, 
half overcome with fright and wine and un- 
known dreams; to the rows of Mussulmans 
in the sun-steeped corridor, who inspected the 
" Trophies" ; to the lurid mass of human flesh 
and gaudy cloak, and the one brown fist 
pounding the bare, white back of the roaring 
" Cossack writing to the Sultan" ; to the clear 
air, outlining the dead face, which a Turk 
held up for view; to the snow-filled picture of 
" Napoleon's Retreat," the trees drooping with 
their white burden and the men stricken with 
their weight of sorrow. 

So the way lies out past the " Tamerlan 
Door." 



220 ACROSS SIBEEIA ALONE 



What a masterly mind — what a painstaking 
hand — which caressed the light, and catching 
it, held it ! Moscow lost in color, when the gal- 
lery door shut in Verestehagin's pictures. 

At the hotel, the doorman with peacock feath- 
ers encircling his cap gave me a note. It marked 
the end of the forenoon's farewells. 

" I have to see about that investigation, and 
must leave town at 12.25. I am inconsolable, 
but I cannot keep good my word to see you off. 
I suggest that you ask the hotel management to 
send someone to the station with you. 

" Hoping that you will depart from Russia 
without mishap, I take leave of you. The pleas- 
ant recollection of our happy talks together will 
stay with me while I live. 

The Pilgrim/' 



the END 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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